


It Remains To Be Seen

by Gracesgirl



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-06-20 15:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 57,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15536925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracesgirl/pseuds/Gracesgirl
Summary: Another piece of Carol and Therese's journey together, with the cast of characters from my other works and a few new ones introduced.





	1. 1

 

     Late one mid-August evening, Carol Aird sat on her sofa, leafing through a home decorating magazine.  Usually, she could get lost in its contents, absorbed in the stunningly beautiful pieces, the lovely fabrics, textures, and wood grains setting her imagination on fire.  Tonight, though, she was restless.  The sweltering heat of day still permeated the apartment despite the fans she and Therese had put to work as soon as they’d returned home.  Her skin felt clammy and the humidity caused an irritability to simmer just below the surface.

 

_It’s a good thing Therese is at the park.  I might bite her head off accidentally.  I wish the heat would break!_ Her young partner had taken their small mutt, Benny, over to Central Park, where she had hoped to walk him amidst the late summer flowers, and preferably those that loved the shade.  Carol smiled to herself.  _Therese.  I love this life we have!_ It cheered her just to think of her, to remember her dimpled smile and the impish gleam in Therese’s emerald eyes as she’d left with Benny.  The young woman was coming into her own, finding her confidence, her voice, and her direction.  It was so rewarding to be a witness to her blossoming.

_Blessed.  I’m blessed._ Before Therese, who seemed to have barreled into her world with Sr. Alicia in tow, Carol had never even once considered what ‘blessed’ meant.  It simply wasn’t a part of her awareness, her lexicon.  _Now, I seem to think of blessed and thankful every day._   She smiled.  _This_ _relationship is changing me.  And I think it’s for the better._

The thought uplifted her.  Feeling energized despite the oppressive humidity, the lovely blond rose, deciding she would tackle two tasks that needed doing: washing her hair, and paying the bills.  Moving toward the bedroom, she walked in her unconsciously graceful manner, her long legs making short work of the distance.  Before she knew it, Carol was unbuttoning her blouse and almost simultaneously, the waistband of her lightweight, cotton skirt.  As her clothing fell to the bedroom floor she breathed deeply, thankful for the air hitting her bare limbs, even if it was hot and damp.  She strode to the shower, where the warm water bathed her skin and soap washed away the day’s grime.  Shampooing her hair, she enjoyed the tingle of the Prell shampoo on her scalp and the clean, refreshed sense of well-being that came over her as she dried herself.

_Small blessings._ She was grateful, sighing with contentment as she dried her hair, donned her lightweight, summer robe and slippers, and made her way to the kitchen, intent on pouring herself a glass of iced tea.  But just as she was about to place a foot on the hardwood kitchen floor, there was a knock at the door.

 

     Carol’s eyes narrowed expressively, her forehead furrowing in puzzlement.  She looked at the wall clock.  Who in the world would be knocking at 7:15pm on a Wednesday evening?  _Did you lose your key,_ _Therese?  Or maybe it’s the new neighbors, come to say a quick hello?_ Thoughts filled her head as she glided down the hallway to the door.

 

     Looking through the security peephole, she saw a rather short, dark-haired woman, unknown to her.  With raised eyebrows, Carol opened the door cautiously, and not too far.    She got a better look at the stranger, who was dressed in a short-sleeved, blue summer blouse and a simple A-line skirt with sensible black flats on her feet.  If her clothing looked worn, her face did also.  It was hard to guess her age, but Carol guessed perhaps mid-forties.  Her skin was pale, with stress lines pinched around her mouth and eyes.  The dark eyes held a weary, wary expression, her brown hair was limp and streaked with gray, and she grasped and folded her fingers around each other, clearly revealing stress or discomfort.

 

     Remembering her manners, Carol spoke in a somewhat cautious manner.  “Hello.  May I—is there something I can help you with?”  She clutched her robe more tightly around her slender frame, feeling ill at ease and not sure why.

 

     “I’m looking for Therese Belivet,” the woman stated bluntly, and her voice sounded gravelly, as if she had been a life-long smoker.  Distracted by its harshness, Carol jerked her eyes to the woman’s work-roughened hands, as if a clue to her identity would be revealed there.

 

     “Therese isn’t home right now.  Can I give her a message?  Will she know what this is about?”

 

     “No, she doesn’t know me, but I’d like to talk to her.”  The stranger pulled a wrinkled piece of scrap paper from the pocket of her skirt and handed it to Carol.  It felt warm and damp in Carol’s hands.  It had a phone number written on it, and the perplexed blond raised her eyes.  “And you are?”  A chill came over her body, and Carol knew in that instant she didn’t want to hear the woman’s answer.

 

     “My name is Sabina, Sabina Belivet.  I’m Therese’s mother.” 


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set me as a seal upon your heart,  
> as a seal upon your arm,  
> For love is stronger than death,  
> passion fiercer than the grave.  
> Its flashes are flashes of fire,  
> a raging flame.  
> Many waters cannot quench love,  
> neither can floods drown it.
> 
> Song of Songs, 8:5-7.

     Carol closed the door, then leaned against it as if she desperately needed holding up.  With eyes closed, she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.  Her heart was pounding in her chest at an alarming rate and a pulse seemed to be thundering in her ears.  _What is this?  Shock?  Anger? Fear?_   _All three?_   _Jesus Christ!_

She thrust herself away from the door and walked directly to the side table where the alcohol decanters waited.  One—and only one—thought seemed to pulsate in her being with every step: “YOU. ARE. NOT. HER. MOTHER!  YOU. ARE. NOT. HER. MOTHER!  YOU. ARE. NOT. HER. MOTHER!”  If she could scream it without alarming a neighbor, she would.  Instead, she swallowed the amber-colored whiskey straight, pouring another even as she felt the liquid seer its way down her throat, her eyes tearing from the intensity.

 

_Liquid courage!_ Whoever gave alcohol that nickname was completely wrong, she decided as she paced back and forth in restless anxiety.  Booze had nothing to do with courage.  If Carol didn’t know this before, she certainly did now.  How in the world was she going to tell Therese Sabina had come by?  Why was the woman here?  Why was she calling herself Sabina, and not Esther?  Why was she calling herself ‘Belivet,’ and not her married name from Nick-what’s his-name?  What did she want from Therese?

 

     “God knows she’s not here to _give_ her anything!  _What the fuck does Sabina Belivet want?”_   Carol shouted this aloud, and the empty apartment walls seemed to reverberate with her desperation and fury.  She was still pacing and craved a cigarette but had recently decided to try to reduce her ‘stress smoking,’ as she and Therese had come to call it.  “I need Abby,” she said, aware she was still talking to herself.  She snatched the offensive paper with Sabina’s number on it off the table and headed for the bedroom, where she tossed it in her dresser drawer before sitting on the side of the bed and picking up the phone.

 

     “It’s me, Abby,” Carol stated when she heard the welcome voice of her oldest friend.

 

     “Hey.  What’s wrong?”  It was obvious to Abby that Carol was clearly upset by the urgency in her deep voice.  “Is it Therese?   Rindy?”  The tall, lovely, auburn-haired woman was sitting at her kitchen table enjoying a cigarette, and her forehead furrowed with concern.

 

     “No, not Rindy, thank God.  It’s…oh, Abby!  I _am_ upset!”  Carol clenched her jaw, chomping down on her back teeth.  “Therese is fine, out with Benny now, but when she returns…”  She sighed, then took a deep breath as she attempted to control her rising fury again.

 

     “Out with it, Carol.”  Abby spoke with a command and familiarity borne of many years of trust and heart-baring conversations between the two women.

 

     “Oh, Abby!  Shit!  Fuck!  Therese’s mother—no, make that _Sabina Belivet_ just stopped by wanting to see Therese!  Shit!” she exclaimed again, bouncing up off the mattress like an exploding ordnance. 

 

     Abby felt the impact.  “ _Jesus Christ!_   Her mother?  Her fucking mother?  Why?  How did she find her?  What does she want?”  Carol was pacing again, albeit this time in a four-step radius due to the phone cord.  She clenched her jaw, running a hand through her silky, unkempt blond hair.  “I have no idea!  The woman knocked on the door, asked for Therese, asked me to pass on her name and phone number and left.  Shit!  I wish I would have asked what she wanted, Abby.  But I was too stunned…in my robe…a stranger at the door…”  She sat abruptly.  “I’m not telling Therese.”

 

     Abby coughed, her cigarette smoke trapped in her own constricted airways.  “ _What?_ Are you crazy?  You can’t keep this from her, Carol.   You’re not thinking straight, and—”

 

     “What good could possibly come from this, Abigail?  This woman _abandoned_ Therese!  Began a new life with a new husband and left Therese at St. Agatha’s like yesterday’s garbage!  What right does she think she has…walking up to our door like she belongs there!  _She’s not her mother anymore!_ ”  Carol thundered away like a courtroom lawyer, leaving her friend on the extension with no room to speak.  “How could that woman just…dump Therese off and walk away?  Leaving her to put the pieces together, bit by bit, for all these years…trying to heal herself…”  Her voice trailed away, and a picture of her young lover rose within, the soft, dark hair; bright, emerald eyes; perfect, pale skin, and rosy lips curving into her impish smile.  

 

     All of a sudden, Carol felt deflated.  “I can’t hurt her with this,” she whispered, almost to herself.

 

     Abby snuffed out her cigarette.  “ _You_ won’t be hurting her at all, darling.  This is Sabina’s sack of shit, Carol.  Not yours, even if you are passing it along.  Therese is an adult now.  Not a child.  And this is her life.”  She spoke with gentle determination.  “So, you tell her, you support her, you love her through this the best you can.  The two of you are so strong together!  You’ll deal with this,” she finished firmly.

 

     Taking a deep breath, Carol leaned her head back, as if the bedroom ceiling was pouring down blessings from a benevolent sky.  With a sigh, she replied, “You’re right, Abigail.  You are.  Oh, god.  I’m not ready for this!  Send me strength?”

 

     The other woman smiled fondly.  “Of course.  Call me again if you need.  I’m home all night.  And maybe you should call Sr. Swami and Sr. Red Hot and tell them to pray,” she suggested, with her typical, irreverent reference to Sr. Alicia and her strikingly attractive, young novice, Sr. Mary Margaretta.

 

     Despite herself, Carol laughed, and the deep tenor of her own voice inexplicably soothed her.  “That’s a great idea, I will.  And you’re incorrigible!”

 

     “But you love me, don’t ya?”  Abby rang off, and Carol’s eyes sought her watch.  It certainly wouldn’t be long before Therese and Benny returned, but the thought of hearing Alicia’s peaceful, comforting voice was overwhelmingly enticing.  She dialed the phone again, biting her bottom lip nervously.

 

     “Hello?” 

 

     Just the sound of Alicia’s quiet, almost melodic voice was calming, and Carol’s shoulders dropped with relief.  “Alicia, it’s Carol.”

 

     “Carol, my dear!  Heavens, what a lovely surprise!  How are you?  How’s my Therese?”

 

     “Oh, Alicia, I’m so glad you’re in!  I’m fine.”  She shook her head.  “No, I’m not fine, and I don’t know if Therese will be, either, in a little while.  I called because…well, because I wanted to ask you to pray for the two of us.”

 

     The elderly nun’s eyes narrowed with concern.  “Of course, dear.  Of course, I can pray.  But tell me what’s troubling you?  Are you ill?  You don’t sound well at all.”  She sat back in her chair, wincing a little at the ever-present achiness in her hip.

 

     “I don’t have long to talk.  Therese is out with Benny and they’ll be coming back any time now.”  She paused, still not believing what she was about to say.  “But…Alicia, a little while ago, Therese’s biological mother stopped by.  Sabina Belivet.  And I’ve been so angry, and so shocked, and I don’t know how to tell Therese and I know I need to…”  Her voice trailed away, and Carol felt angry with herself for sounding like such a dishrag.

 

     The older woman closed her eyes, a part of her heart already entering into prayer as it had learned to do over many years of trials and challenges amidst a deepening faith.  “Oh, dear.  Oh, my dear Carol.  Darling Therese.”  She took a breath and squared her shoulders.  “Right.  I’m glad you called.  I’ll begin prayer immediately, alert our prayer chain here at the convent.  We’ll invoke the Spirit and—”

 

     Carol heard the door opening in the other room, and the next few seconds Benny came dashing into the bedroom, barking excitedly.  “Ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff!”  He hurled himself onto the bed, into Carol’s lap.  “I’ve got to go, Alicia,” she said, wondering if her voice could be heard above the din.  Benny commenced licking her chin, and the blond woman saw Therese turn the corner into the bedroom with a huge smile on her face.  _Therese._

“Yes, dear, you do.  I’m praying already.  You aren’t alone, Carol.  God bless you.”

 

     Carol hung up the phone blindly, and it clattered off its base.  _Therese._ She tried again, and again the receiver went noisily sliding from the base.  Benny was prancing in her lap, walking in small circles until he settled himself just so. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off the beautiful young woman she loved so deeply, who was now walking toward her with a concerned look on her face.

 

     “Carol?” Therese’s voice echoed her countenance.  She took the phone from the other woman’s hand, hanging it up softly, as if not to spook Carol, who was sitting so elegantly, so gracefully, looking so hauntingly beautiful it made Therese ache with love for her.  She sat beside her on the bed, brought a slender hand to her forehead, pushed away a few stray curls with gentle fingers.  “Carol?  What’s wrong, love?  I can tell something is wrong.”

 

     Calmed by the strength of her girlfriend’s obvious love, the older woman reached for Therese’s hand, enveloping it in her own.  She cleared her throat.  She took a deep breath.  “Therese, let’s go pour a glass of wine, okay?  Come sit with me, darling.  I’ve something to tell you.”

 

 

    

 

            

 

    

 

  

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and thank you for reading! Your support is invaluable and your companionship a gift.  
> Peace to all...


	3. 3

     Therese tugged her hand back, shaking her head.  “No, Carol.  I don’t want to pour a glass of wine now.  I want you to tell me what’s wrong.  You’re white as a ghost and scaring me!”  Her plea was fervent and held an echo of the fear rising within like a shark shooting out of the murky depths toward its unsuspecting prey.  She took a shaky breath.  “Is it Rindy?”  Her heart was thumping as she watched the older woman shake her head.  “Alicia?”  She could barely get the words out, and released her held breath when Carol again shook her head.  Now Therese’s brow was furrowed, her deep green eyes narrowed.  “Abby?  Did something bad happen to Abby?”

 

     Carol gently replied, “No, darling.  Nothing happened to Abby.  She’s fine.”  She reached for her companion’s hand once again.  _Why do I feel like an executioner?  God, this is painful!  Help me!_ “Can we please go sit and have a glass of wine and talk?”

 

     It was as if Therese didn’t hear her, and Carol watched as what seemed like a lifetime of emotions played their way across the beautiful brunette’s flawless face.  She felt herself sigh internally and had to fight the urge to flee.  _Therese!  My darling!_ The drama continued.  _How did I get these front row seats?_ She stroked the sleeping Benny in her lap, wanting to suck all the little mutt’s safe, warm, consoling energy from his body.  Still, Therese didn’t speak, except for in her eyes.  They came marching across a battlefield like brave soldiers bearing arms and trying valiantly to delay the inevitable.  Carol saw fear. She saw longing.  She saw regret.  And finally, she saw awareness, and then acceptance.

 

     With a perception far too heavy for one so young, Therese saw and embraced the reality before her now.  Her eyes darkened, her shoulders sagged, and then she seemed to latch on to Carol’s gaze as if it was the only real thing she’d ever known.

 

     “It’s my mother, isn’t it?” she whispered, swallowing with difficulty.  Carol nodded, squeezing the slender hand she still held.  “Yes, darling, it is.”  The older woman had no idea why she was whispering except she did not feel capable of speaking.

 

     “Did she call?”  At the negative nod, Therese paled.  “She came here?” 

 

     “Yes, sweetheart, she did.”  Carol watched Therese take perhaps the deepest breath her lungs would allow, shuddering as she exhaled.  “What did she want?”  Carol hesitated to reply, and the younger woman asked again, “What did she want, Carol?”  Her voice was sharp, clipped.  “For god’s sake, what the fuck did my mother want?”  Startled, Benny awoke, jumping up onto all four paws and switching laps.  He lifted his furry face to Therese’s chin, licking her, tickling her with his long whiskers.  She stroked him without conscious awareness but felt soothed in some primal place before language existed.

_Suck it up, Carol!_ The blond stammered out her response.  “Not much, sweetheart.  I mean—she didn’t _say_ much.  She just asked for you and…when I said you weren’t home, she just left her name and number.  She asked…she just asked me to give it to you.”  _Jesus Christ!  Fuck you, Sabina Belivet!_

 

     A hardness shot fleetingly across Therese’s neat features, dissipating quickly, to be replaced by a blankness that frightened Carol.  She squeezed the younger woman’s hand again.  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she whispered urgently.  “Tell me… _what can I do?”_   But Therese was shaking her head even before she finished speaking.

 

     “I have… _no idea._ ”  She sighed, looking down to stroke Benny as if just becoming aware he was in her lap.  “You’re so soft, Bens.  You’re so sweet.”  She bent, burying her face in his silky coat, the place behind his neck where the fur was so thick.  “Thank you, big guy!  Thanks for knowing I need you here.”  Another sigh, and then Therese looked directly into Carol’s almost wary, blue-gray eyes.  “She wants something, you know.  My mother is all about herself, always was.  So…she wants something.”

 

     “Of course,” Carol agreed blandly.  Still stroking Benny, her young companion fell silent for a few moments.  Carol was surprised and not sure why. _Is it because she’s not sobbing?  Screaming?  Running around in circles of rage?  What did I think she’d do?  Could we ever have been prepared?_ When the silence stretched, she decided to speak.

 

     “Darling, I’ll do whatever you need me to do.  We can ignore her request for as long as possible.  If she calls, I can tell her you don’t want to talk with her.  Or we can be proactive.  I’ll call her and say you don’t want contact and ask that she not contact you again.  Or we’ll involve the police,” she added.

 

     But Therese had been shaking her head in firm disagreement.  The young woman took a deep breath.  “No.  No, Carol, this is mine.  I don’t know what I need to do, and when, or even how…but _I_ have to do it.”  She shook her head again, and Carol watched her dark hair caress her flushed cheek, thinking distractedly about how soft it always felt in her fingertips.  The eyes she raised were deep pools reflecting a lifetime of pain, and Carol felt her own heart break into countless pieces.  _Dear lord, are we_ _strong enough for this?_

 

     “Therese,” Carol interjected with quiet resolve, “I won’t let you do _any_ of this alone.  It’s not wise, darling.  I know you’re a grown woman who makes her own decisions.  But,” she took the younger woman’s chin, drawing her face up until their eyes met, “some things we shouldn’t do alone.  Some people aren’t safe, and your mother is one of them.  If you talk with her…I will be right next to you.  Can you agree to that?  Therese?  Can you?”

 

     Therese whispered her reply.  “Yes, Carol.  When and if I respond to her, it’s only with you there.”  She clenched her hand roughly.  _“I promise!”_

 

                                                  ______________________________________

 

     In the middle of the night, Carol was awoken by the distinct sound of Therese crying.  Her heart clenched, and she scooted over, pulling the young woman across the inky expanse between them and into her strong, warm arms.  She stroked the damp hair off her face, kissing the top of her head.  “It’s okay, my darling.  Let it go.  Let it go…”  Therese cried harder, her slim shoulders shaking, arms tightening around Carol’s waist.  Carol murmured nonsensical sounds, humming softly, kissing her forehead again and again, until finally the storm had past and Therese quieted, except for her hiccupped, staggered breaths.  Carol said nothing because, really, were any words sufficient?  Instead, she just held her young lover, praying to silently impart not only the strength of her spirit but that of the mysterious Spirit Alicia had been invoking.  It seemed a much bigger spirit was called for now, one so much larger than Carol could summon from within.

 

     The women settled into a surprising, timeless, quiet peace, and in her nocturnal, sleepy state, Carol was slow to notice that somewhere along the way, Therese’s hands had tunneled their way inside her silk pajama top. But she did notice the exact instant when her touch changed.  In a quicksilver moment, a burst of lightning in a pan, the young hands stopped seeking comfort, and instead clearly were seeking to arouse.

 

     Carol caught her breath when Therese captured her breast, palming its softness before pinching her nipple.  “Ahh…”  Her surprised voice trailed away, then caught in her throat when the young woman crawled on top of her, bringing her warm face to the crease of her neck.  When Therese’s tongue came out to meander its way along that path, and then around the back of a sensitive ear, she shivered.  A jolt of sexual desire shot through her, setting her skin on fire and bringing its flame to her groin.

 

     “Therese,” she whispered haltingly, and the young lover’s mouth swooped down to capture Carol’s lips, forcing its way into the moist recesses of her mouth with a kiss that took her breath away.  Carol’s arms found their way round Therese’s slender waist, under her night shirt, and to the smooth, heated skin of her back which she began stroking, mindless with the pleasure she felt.  Therese’s pelvis was gyrating, and both women were breathing heavily, as if time had slowed.

 

     “Carol!”  Therese’s urgent whisper came as she covered her lover’s face with kisses, slightly unhinged with desire.  “Carol!” she whispered again, this time with increased urgency.  Heaving out a sigh, the older woman murmured, “Yes, Therese.  Yes…oh!  Darling…”  Her response was smothered by her cry as Therese bit her nipple, then tongued and sucked passionately while her hand fondled the other breast.

 

     Sitting up astride Carol, the younger woman reached for her night shirt and drew it over her head, tossing it aside.  “Carol!” she whispered with ever-increasing intensity.  “Please!  I need to love you!”  Her eyes were black in the faint light, smoldering with desire, her hair in wild disarray, her hips moving restlessly.  “I need you to love me!  I need…to know I’m a woman!  _Make me feel like a woman!”_   she grated out harshly.

 

     Carol shot up immediately, driven by a need so deep and a love so powerful she had no choice.  Her hands grasped Therese’s shoulders, then slid down her arms, came briefly to her small, high breasts, and then down to the curve of her hips.  In one smooth movement, she shifted their bodies slightly, and in the next instant her fingers plunged themselves into the velvet heat of Therese’s core.  Gasping at the wetness she found there, her fingers began to move with erotic intent. 

 

     With her arm around Therese’s shoulders, she drew the young woman near, pulling an earlobe between her lips.  “Therese,” she whispered between heavy breaths, “yes!  You’re a woman!  I love that you’re my woman!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, we can thank my dog, who went out for the last time today and promptly got sprayed by a skunk. In the midst of numerous washings, I heard Therese speak, and was wide awake enough to write down what she needed to say. 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this story. My deepest gratitude to all of you who are walking with Carol and Therese. They need you and love you, as do I. Much peace to you.


	4. 4

_Therese went to answer the knock at the door.  Two women stood there, one tall, large-boned, and full-hipped, the other shorter and cheerfully plump.  The taller of the two had striking hair, perhaps blond, but perhaps white and gold, and it hung down her back in thick waves almost to her waist. Her face was utterly beautiful, with high, sculpted cheekbones; eyes a mixture of darker blues and purple; smooth, alabaster skin; and full, pink lips.  The shorter had dark, curly hair that looked like it had been sprinkled with starlight.  Her face was round, and Therese didn’t know why but this made her feel happy, just like the woman’s full, high cheeks; shining, deep brown eyes; snowy white teeth; and red lips curved into a cheery smile.  Therese thought she looked like an elf that had accidentally grown into an adult-sized human.  Although, she thought, maybe elves aren’t miniature people like I’ve always imagined._

_Together, they made a striking pair, but not quite what she was expecting.  The tall woman was clearly a physician, wearing a long white coat, with a stethoscope hanging from her neck and a clipboard perched against one hip.  The smaller of the two was holding a notepad and pen, and her light purple blouse and white skirt left Therese wondering if she was a doctor, too, or maybe a nurse without a cap on._

_“Hello!” The doctor greeted her warmly, in a full and confident tone, a smile lighting up her face with kindness.  “Here we are!” She smiled down at her companion, who seemed incapable of doing anything but smile, too._

_Therese was taken aback.  “Oh, er…and you are?” she stammered out._

_The woman looked at her clipboard.  “Are you Therese Belivet?”_

_“Well, yes, but I didn’t…I mean I’m not…” Her voice trailed away.  Clearly, she was mystified, and this must have been obvious to the strangers, because the smaller of the two piped in, “You look confused there, love.  We’re your decorators!”_

_Therese blinked with surprise, but still politely replied, “Oh, well…won’t you please come in.”  The visitors seemed to glide into the apartment so gracefully its resident was caught staring at them, standing holding the open door with her mouth agape._

_The doctor decorator smiled at her and Therese, oddly, felt almost physically touched.  “You are looking totally unprepared for our visit, Miss Belivet, if I can say so?  Would you like us to come back another time?  Perhaps you’re not prepared for the task at hand?”  The smaller woman chipped in, “Yes, I must say I agree with her, miss.  Would you like to reschedule?”  She asked this with a huge smile, of course, and her eyes shone with gentleness and understanding.  Therese thought they were like peaceful reflecting pools and would have liked to slip in._

_She jolted herself from another stare, perturbed with how rude she must seem.  “No, really, it’s ok.  I think I must just not have been expecting decorators who…looked like you,” she admitted honestly._

_The women looked at each other in understanding.  “Well, we certainly hear that quite a bit,” the elf woman confided.  “Don’t worry, dear.  If you’re ready for your project, then we are, too!  And don’t let our appearance throw you off.  Although, our company does work differently than most others.  Yes, it does, love!”  She smiled once again, and Therese was convinced she’d slid down from the North Pole, or perhaps plopped through a fluffy cloud._

_The taller woman flipped her hair out of her face and Therese thought it was like a golden white wave rolling gently toward shore.  She didn’t know why, but she was afraid to speak to her.  But screwing up her courage, she asked, “Are you…I mean, I believe you’re my decorators, but are you a doctor, also?”  She indicated the long white coat and stethoscope with a wave of her hand._

_The beautiful woman laughed, looking down at herself almost self-consciously.  “Oh, this!  I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to change!  Yes, I am, dear.  I’m an obstetrician.  And I’m so sorry I forgot to take off this white coat.  It can be intimidating, can’t it?”  She took of her lab coat and laid it over the crook of an arm, then smiled.  “There!  I hope that’s better.  So, shall we get started?”_

_The young brunette nodded.  “Yes, please.  Should I lead you around and tell you what we’ve been thinking about?”  She was surprised when both visitors shook their heads.  “I…shouldn’t?”_

_The doctor’s eyes were filled with a kind of compassionate understanding, and Therese felt that the woman could see inside her mind.  “No, dear.  That’s how our company works differently.  My assistant and I would like to lead_ you _around.”  Noticing her customer blanch, she nodded, then looked at the elf.  “We see this all the time, don’t we?”  Looking back at Therese, she continued her explanation.  “Our company is unique, we know, and we also know it might be frightening to work with us.  But let us just lay it out while we walk around, okay?”_

_Therese had no idea why, but she nodded her agreement.  So, they walked from room to room, the women looking closely at the interior of the apartment, their obviously keen eyes seeming to miss nothing.  “What we like to do,” the doctor mused, “is have you trust us to make all the decisions about what might need to be changed.  We have more years than you know doing this sort of thing and can promise you we have your very best interests in mind!”_

_Her smile was so benevolent that it softened the blow, but Therese still felt her pulse begin to race.  “You mean,” she stammered, “you want me to give you all the control over the whole project?”  Her voice was shaky, and the inside of her mouth had gone dry._

_Both decorators smiled now, their lovely faces bobbing up and down.  “Well, of course, love!” the elf exclaimed.  “We know it’s not the typical approach, but we really think you’ll be happy with the results.  And it will take so much of your stress away, leaving it up to us.  We just need your trust in our work.”  She grinned as if this was quite the easiest thing in the world._

_Against her better judgment, Therese found herself nodding.  “Well…okay, I’ll try.”  She had no idea why she was doing this.  She loved to be in control, especially of her environment, and the thought of letting these women have that control almost made her shiver with fear.  And she cringed when she thought of what Carol might think, but she had left the whole project to Therese’s discretion._

_These women, though…they were so kind, kinder than anyone she’d ever met.  They seemed to float from room to room on a flying carpet of love, leaving waves of goodness in their wake.  They moved in quietude, and walked tenderly on the worn rug, one of the things Therese was certain needed replacing.  As if they knew how tired it was, how many footsteps had trod upon it…_

_The doctor beamed.  “That’s absolutely all we need!  Just for you to try.  Okay, now, the first thing we both will tell you,” she noted, looking around, “is that there is entirely too much clutter in these rooms.”_

_“Oh, yes, definitely!” her assistant agreed, writing on her notepad.  “Definitely a bit crowded in here.  That’s probably the first thing we’ll recommend.  Clearing out some spaces.”  She was still busily writing, and the doctor was, too, her graceful hand moving across her clipboard.  The taller woman looked up and peered at Therese with those bluish-purple eyes until the young woman felt she was drowning in her.  The doctor appeared deeply moved, and tears began to roll down her face quite unexpectedly._

_Hearing her partner sniffle, the elf came over, making gentle shushing noises.  “There, there!”  She began to cry herself, which made Therese cry, too.  For the first time, they touched her, and all her jitteriness went away.  Their touch was the most loving touch she had ever known, and she felt enveloped in a deep peace, like she was drifting through a velvety midnight sky, from star to beaming star._

_The women stood silently holding hands for a few minutes. Then the elf decorator said, “Alright now, love.  You just leave this up to us.  Try to trust us and let go.”  She giggled.  “Easier said than done, we know!  But we promise to guide you through the whole redecorating process, every step of the way.”_

_Therese stayed true to her word.  She tried her hardest each day to keep trusting, and little by little learned to let go and allow the decorators to have their way with the apartment.  She had no idea how she was doing this, but the kindly women had said they would help her.  Perhaps the little elf had sprinkled magic dust on her when she wasn’t looking!_

_Therese found that almost without her knowing it, the apartment somehow became less cluttered.  The rooms seemed to hold fresher air, and more of it, and her shoulders didn’t sag just looking around at all the stuff she had accumulated and held on to.  The decorators came back once, as kind and lovely as ever, just to do a “walk-through,” but they could see by the look on her face how pleased she was, how much easier apartment life seemed now._

_And Carol seemed pleased, too.  One day, Therese watched her lovely, lanky lover come into the sitting room with a bag of chips in her hand.  She headed straight for the recliner, their favorite of the decorators’ few additions to their home.  Its cloth covering was soft and sky blue, its cushions plush, thick, and exquisitely comfortable.  Falling into it at the end of a long work day was simply heavenly._

_Carol swung her long legs up, put her head back, and promptly bit into another chip.  She smiled, almost giggling in a very un-Carol like way.  “This is so easy, darling!  This is the easiest chair of all!”_

 

                                                  _____________________________________

   

     Carol gazed over at Therese, who was slowly waking up.  The lithe, young brunette looked like a lazy lioness with a full belly, she thought--yawning, stretching, and smiling in the most contented fashion.  It surprised the older woman, who had gotten used to her partner’s thrashing, whimpering, bedclothes-churning nights of late and couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her smile—asleep or awake.

 

     Therese opened her eyes, saw Carol was awake, and immediately bridged the gap between them, burying her face in the warm valley between her breasts.  The younger woman sighed deeply, slipping a slender arm around Carol’s waist and hugging her.

 

     “You seem okay this morning, Therese,” Carol observed, kissing the top of her warm, fragrant head. “Not like…most mornings lately.”  She felt the nod against her chest and tightened her own arms in grateful relief.

 

     “Yes.”  Therese didn’t say more at first because the awareness of her dream was very much with her, and she couldn’t quite find words for it.  It seemed to be trickling down through her being like water for her deepest roots.  For the moment, she felt like an oak tree whose roots were drinking of an endless stream.

 

     She breathed in Carol’s scented warmth for several minutes before speaking again.  “I had a dream.”

 

     Carol smiled gently.  “It must have been a good one, then?”  Therese nodded again, then pushed herself up on an elbow, looking at Carol with an intense expression in her dewy, emerald eyes.  Thoughts played across her smooth, unlined face like a movie reel reading itself.  After a few moments, she spoke.

 

     “I want to visit Alicia today, like you suggested, Carol.”  She took a deep breath.  “And then I need to call Sabina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on a dream I had a few weeks ago. The "decorators" were my obstetrician of twenty years ago, and a professor who was perhaps the first person who ever really saw my authentic, wounded self and loved me still. I'm sure I will be mulling my own personal meaning of the dream for quite a while...   
> For now, I only know I was supposed to gift it to Therese.
> 
> I thank you for reading this. I say it often, and truly mean it--I'm deeply grateful for your companionship. Sending you peace and kindness.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "...now to the One who can do infinitely more   
> than all we could ask or imagine  
> according to the power  
> at work within us...  
> Ephesians 3:20
> 
>  
> 
> As the two friends wandered through the snow  
> on their way home, Piglet grinned to himself  
> thinking how lucky he was  
> to have a best friend like Pooh.  
> A. A. Milne
> 
> All good things  
> are wild and free.  
> Henry David Thoreau

     Therese was in Alicia’s strong embrace.  Her substantial, fleshy arms were around her, and she breathed in the scent of the old nun’s Ivory soap and talcum powder-scented bosom, wondering, as she always did, how the woman tolerated the scratchiness of the tunic Therese lay her head upon.  She felt such comfort here, such safety, so much she had no words for.  Except, perhaps, _Mother._

 

     The young woman stiffened.  _Mother._ It all came crashing back in an instant.  _Sabina.  Her visit.  Her mother?  What did she want?_  Alicia felt the change in Therese’s body, and her brow furrowed with concern at the very same instant the younger woman felt great, heaving sobs curling up, as if from her toes.  They rose through her body like a trail of fire, fed by the dry tinder of the brittle self-control she had exercised over the last two weeks. 

 

     And then they erupted.  An explosion of great, painful sobs blew through her slender body, so much so she could not catch her breath.  She gasped.  Then she almost wailed, a harsh, raw sound that pierced the heart.  Carol leapt up from where she’d been sitting in the chair beside Alicia’s prayer table.  Alicia tightened her arms, knowing in an instant that of course, this would have happened at some point. 

 

     Therese sobbed.  Carol’s arms joined Alicia’s.  “Darling, darling, Sabina’s not here.  It’s Alicia, now.  And Carol.  It’s me, darling.  It’s us.  We’re here.  We’re here.”  She kissed the young woman repeatedly on the top of her heated, sweaty head, desperate to comfort and soothe, rubbing circles on her back where the nun wasn’t already stroking.

 

     Therese kept sobbing.  Alicia’s lips moved, her prayer so fervent she was almost transported.  _Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison.  Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison._ Unable to help herself, Carol began to cry, tears flowing unheeded down her smooth, pale cheeks.  They ran in rivulets down her sculpted jawbone, fell from her chin.

 

     _Dear god,_ it hurt to see Therese this way.  She felt the retched sobs as if they were being torn from her own soul.  Carol closed her eyes, trying to compose herself, and when she opened them, Alicia was looking at her with the strongest, most tender expression, like a bent willow withstanding a hurricane.  Emboldened, Carol whispered again, “It’s us, Therese.  Carol and Alicia.  Sabina’s not here.  Not now, and not unless you say so.”

 

     The young brunette was crying more softly now, hiccupping painfully every few moments, followed by fresh tears.  She was aware of Carol murmuring, and the comfort of Alicia’s arms.  And the repetitive nature of her fractured thoughts.  Carol.  Alicia.  Sabina.  Carol.  Alicia.  Sabina.

_Carol, my love.  Alicia, the only mother I’ve known._   And Sabina?  “SHE’S NOT MY MOTHER!  SHE’S NOT MY MOTHER!”  Therese had pushed herself out of Alicia’s arms, a shocked look on her face, her eyes wide and almost horrified.  “She can’t be my mother!  She can’t!  Can she?  Can she?  You’re my mother, Alicia!”

 

     Alicia drew her back into her arms.  “Shh.  Shh, dear heart.  Shh, now.”  She looked at Carol, nodding at the hot plate and tea kettle on the little table, smiling gratefully.  “Carol is going to make us some tea.  Come sit with us.  Come, dear heart, dear Therese.  Ah!  You’ve been through it, haven’t you?”  She clucked her tongue, a soothing sound that made Carol think of kindly Scottish nannies.  _Were Scottish_ _nannies kindly?  Who knew?  Does it matter?_   “Come now.  Sit,” Alicia encouraged again, and Carol was jolted from her escapist thinking, back to the task at hand.

 

     Therese did as the nun encouraged.  The hiccups still came, raw and raspy.  Her emerald eyes were flooded, like an overflowing stream, and red-rimmed and puffy.  Her nose, too, was red, and her throat felt like it was on fire.  “Ugh!” she moaned.  “My head is going to explode!”  The young woman rubbed her temples, then the back of her neck.  Her hand looked pale and somehow very vulnerable.  She looked at Alicia, then Carol, her eyes filling again.  “I’m so sorry…I didn’t know…”

 

     Alicia shook her head.  “Therese, dear.  Stop!  No apologies needed!  You know me, for heaven’s sakes.  And I would have expected this at some point, if it hadn’t already happened.  It wouldn’t be healthy to keep all this inside and—”

 

     Carol picked her head up in the act of pouring their tea, cutting the wise old nun off.  “I agree!” she agreed, with a look of apology to Alicia.  “Over the last however many days you’ve been so quiet, sweetheart.  Your nights have been restless, and when I’m with you you’ve been agitated or quietly preoccupied.”  The lovely blond placed a cup of steaming tea in front of each of them, settling herself on Therese’s left.  Alicia was on the other side, her work-worthy fingers stroking Therese’s hand in a consoling manner. 

 

     Therese sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.  “It’s just that…seeing you, Alicia…somehow it really hit me.  You know I’ve always thought of you as my mother, I haven’t tried to hide it.  And now, Sabina’s back…”  She cringed.  “I _can’t_ call her my mother!  I just can’t!  Who is she?” she cried passionately.

 

     Alicia clucked again.  “Therese, dear heart, I want you to listen to me!  We have the women who’ve given birth to us and yes, they are our mothers.  At least biologically!  But the women who _mother_ us, those who offer us _mothering…_ ”  Her voice trailed away, and warm memory seemed to fill her deep blue eyes.  “They don’t have to be the same woman, you see?  Not all mothers can mother!  And so we need mothering women who, in my opinion, are chosen by God… These are the women chosen to nurture and love us, to help us heal and grow into wholeness!  Do you understand me?” 

 

     Therese nodded, and Alicia continued.  “Yes, I’ve mothered you, Therese!  And I’m so honored to have been chosen!”  Her cherubic face beamed with an unmistakable love, and she leaned over and kissed the young brunette on the cheek.  “But, my dear, there is a woman in this world who gave birth to you.  And she’s been in contact with you now.  So the question is, what do you want to do about it?”

 

     The two older women could see Therese’s shoulders tense and watched her fidget about in her chair.  Carol reached for her hand, squeezing it before she asked, “Are you ready, Therese?  You said you wanted to visit Alicia, and then call Sabina.  Are you ready, honey?  What do you need?” 

 

     Therese sipped her cooling tea as if to ward off an impending sense of doom.  She paused, and the other women sipped their teas, also, waiting patiently.  She sighed loudly, her discomfort obvious.  “Oh, _I don’t know!_   I want to call, and then I don’t; I want to call, and then I don’t!  It’s driving me crazy!”

 

     At the merest sign of Therese’s trademark temper, Alicia nodded, feeling pleased.  “There!  That’s what I was hoping to see, Therese!”

 

     The youngest woman looked at Alicia, clearly irritated.  “What, Alicia?  You want to see me be pissed?” she asked, not caring if the slang offended the kindly old nun.  “You know I can do anger, for pete’s sake.  I tortured you with it!  And I’m sure a lot of it had to do with Sabina!  Now I should get enraged again?”  She was practically sneering, and Carol caught her breath in fascination.  She’d never seen her girlfriend in this state.

 

     Alicia shook her head, sipped her tea, and finally, spoke.  “Dear heart, no.”  She stopped, considering her words carefully.  “No, I don’t think it would be helpful if you flew into a rage.  Acting out like an adolescent won’t free you now, my dear.  But…I do think that your righteous anger can free you from becoming Sabina’s victim again.  And maybe free you once and for all!”

 

     If anything, Therese looked even more irritated, and Carol had to swallow an amused smile.  _My, my, what a piece of work you must have been!_   She contemplated whether it was a good idea to speak now, deciding to venture forth.“Darling, whatever you decide is okay.  You know we’ll support you either way.  But I think Alicia has a valid point, don’t you?  If you call Sabina…confront the situation…”

The nun cut her off.  “Then you won’t have to worry that Sabina will be hovering in the darkness, ready to take you by surprise again.  _You take charge of the situation!”_ She said this with such uncommon vehemence that both Carol and Therese looked at her in shock.  Alicia’s eyes narrowed, her lips twitched, she took a deep breath.  She looked at each of them in turn before speaking.

 

     “After I was raped, I lived in fear for the longest time, girls.  Waiting for…him to appear again.”  Her voice was so full of memory that neither of the other women dared breathe lest they intrude in sacred territory.  It was also full of strength and character and overcoming.  She reached over, taking both her hands into her own.  “It took me years, darlings, before I finally stopped feeling like his victim.  Years!  And a good, loving therapist who stayed with me until I found my voice.  And an older brother who was a cop!”

 

     “And what did he do for you?  Find that animal?”  Carol’s nostrils flared with anger, but Alicia was shaking her head.  “Then what…”

 

     “He taught me self-defense, dear.  He took me to the station and had me meet with all of his buddies who worked with me until I knew a thing or two about how to “disarm and disable,” as they put it.”  She smiled as victory dawned in her memory, not really seeing the stunned looks her companions were giving her.  “Rory helped me overcome my victimhood.”

 

    Alicia smiled with confidence. “Now it’s your turn, Therese.  Carol and I will walk with you every step of the way.  But the choice is _yours_ to make as an adult woman now.  You can choose to call Sabina and take control in whatever way you can.  Or not, because only you can know if you can _not_ respond and be more at peace that way.”

 

     Therese clenched her teeth, the muscles in her jaw flexing.  Her stomach fluttered with nerves.  She looked at Carol, then Alicia.  “I don’t want to do either!  But I need to know why she found me, what she wants… It’s driving me crazy.  The not knowing.”  She breathed deeply, her eyes closed, wishing she could be anywhere but at this very point in her life.  _Anywhere!_   She opened her eyes, and her troubles swam in their emerald pools.

 

     “I’ll call her,” she whispered in a shaky voice, grasping their hands tightly.  “But I just can’t do it alone.”

 

     “Nor should you, Therese!  You need support, and you certainly have the two of us!”  Alicia had taken on a commanding tone, and it was empowering to hear.  Carol joined in.  “Darling, we’ve discussed this.  I’d never allow you to call Sabina alone!”

 

     The old nun _hmphed._ She squared her shoulders.  “Would you like to call Sabina now, dear heart?  While the three of us are together?”  Therese nodded, still wrestling with her uncertainties, and Alicia smiled reassuringly, an almost triumphant gleam in her eyes.

     “Then you will!  And best of all, the Holy Spirit is hard at work on this already!  I’ve had our prayer chain on this ever since I heard.  That’s about four hundred and fifty Franciscan nuns, my darlings, and trust me when I tell you we are prayer warriors!”

 

     Alicia rose to her feet with a clear purpose in mind.  She rested her hands upon Therese’s shoulders, and Carol sensed her intent, feeling uncomfortable and yet deeply moved.  _“Lord,”_ the nun began, _“your_ _scripture says that through the power of your Spirit within us, you can do more than we can ever ask or imagine.  I invoke your Holy Spirit now, inviting your presence, your wisdom, your strength, your goodness.  Bless my dear Therese with a sense of your power alive within her and make her shine with your light always.  Amen.”_

 

     For the first time that afternoon, Therese smiled.  She took a deep breath, expelling it slowly.  Looking at the other women, she said, “Well, I can’t say I feel invincible, but I am calmer.”  Her eyes filled with tears again.  _“Thank you for being here with me!”_ She reached for her handbag, pulling out the rumpled piece of paper with Sabina’s number on it.  Looking at it, the numbers seemed to blur, but she forced herself to act.  “Carol, can you hand me the phone behind you, please?”

 

     As she gave Therese the phone, Carol could feel her own heart thudding painfully.  _Therese, Therese!_ She didn’t have words for her feelings.  She looked at Alicia and immediately felt bolstered by the fire blazing in the nun’s wise eyes.  Carol smiled.  Sabina was simply no match for the three of them, and this Spirit Alicia had called upon.

 

     “Hello,” a raspy voice answered only a few rings into the call.  Therese froze momentarily.  _My_ _mother.  My mother’s voice._ “Hello,” the voice said again.

“Sabina, it’s Therese.”  Her voice shook only a little, and Therese felt proud.  There was a pause, a few moments that felt like an eternity.  Therese thought she heard a sigh. 

 

     “I’m glad you called, girl.  I’d like to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and supporting this author. I'm deeply appreciative!  
> I'm sending peace and loving kindness to all.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freedom is what you do  
> with what's been done to you.  
> Jean-Paul Satre

    

     Therese hung up the phone feeling almost dizzy.  She needed to take a seat, but wasn’t she already seated?  Resting her head in shaking hands, she felt a chill pass over her body and suddenly could not keep from shivering.

_“I have no idea why I just did that,”_ she whispered.  Carol reached out a gentle hand and placed it on the younger woman’s shoulder.  She was almost afraid Therese would startle.  “Darling?  What is it?  What did you do?”

 

     The brunette drew a shaky breath.  Her chest felt tight and uncomfortable.  “I can barely breath.”  Alicia narrowed her eyes, concerned at Therese’s pallor, which was a sickly, chalk white.  The old nun stood, taking a few steps to reach the kettle, which held cooling water now.  She filled a mug, handing it to Therese.  Then she hobbled to the restroom where a soft washcloth was dampened. 

 

     As Alicia walked back, Carol was keenly aware of the sound of her thick shoes on the linoleum floor, the square-heels making a sturdy _thud_ , and of Therese’s labored breathing.  It all felt sterile and ominous, like being in a waiting room awaiting news on a loved one’s condition after serious surgery.  _What happened to our laughter?_ The three of them had known so much laughter together!  Carol missed it with a piercing poignancy, felt almost mocked by the heavy silence that now had fallen.

 

     As Alicia bathed Therese’s sweaty brow, she murmured.  “How strong you are, Therese!  How very courageous.  Look at that!  You called Sabina, of your own choice, your own volition… You didn’t have to, but you did, dear heart.  For you!  And no one else, hmm?”

 

     Carol was rubbing small, light circles between Therese’s shoulder blades.  Her own throat felt tight and dry, and she took a sip of cold tea before she spoke.  “Alicia’s right, sweetheart.  You are so very brave!”  She sounded deep and raspy, as if she eaten cigarettes for a snack and a few had still been lit. 

 

     The brunette exhaled a breath she had no idea she’d been holding, rubbing her temples, then shaking her head.  “But I shouldn’t have…oh, why did I… _I shouldn’t have done that!_ ” she cried, and her anguish was palpable.

 

     “Tell us, Therese.  What did you do that you regret?”  Carol pushed a few silky strands of hair off Therese’s pale cheek, trying desperately to be patient.  An unexpected memory of her junior year choir teacher flashed into her mind, (“Girls, girls wake up!  You’re singing at a _largo_ pace and I want some _presto_!”) and for one insane moment she thought she might start stomping her foot like that old bat.

 

     Ever observant, Alicia looked from Therese’s pale face to the strain on Carol’s and heaved herself to her feet once again.  From a shelf in her small closet she pulled a shoe box, reaching inside for a cherished bottle.  “Ladies, we need a little Irish medicine!  If ever there was a good time for a whiskey, it’s now.”  Pouring the amber gold liquid into their mugs, she smiled reassuringly at her companions.  “Drink up now, loves.  It’ll do you good!”

 

_I love you, Alicia_ , Carol thought, and Therese drank like a ranch hand, swallowing the alcohol with one tip of her slender neck.  Afterward, she slapped the mug on the table and reached for the whiskey bottle, oblivious to Alicia’s wide eyes and amused smile. But the alcohol bolstered her, sliding down her throat with a silken jolt.  She was a gladiator; she had entered her coliseum.

 

     “I shouldn’t have said I’d come see her,” she proclaimed grimly.  “The whole time she was talking my head was screaming, _Hang up!  Hang up!  Hang up!_ But my heart just couldn’t make me do it.  I just couldn’t do that!”  Her tone was anguished, and Carol was filled with a smoldering rage she hadn’t felt since Harge was dragging her through the muck of his making. 

 

     “Oh, Christ, I’d like to take a flame thrower to that woman!”  She ground this out with vehemence, then turned to Alicia.  “And I’m sorry for the language, Alicia.  I’d just love to rip Sabina’s head off!”  Her cheeks had gone pink and her nostrils flared with suppressed emotion.  She shook her head in frustration, then sipped her drink as the pulse in her temple pounded.

 

     “Carol dear, I understand.  Don’t go on about language right now,” Alicia replied, turning toward Therese with a sigh.  “Therese, dear heart, please tell us more.  What does Sabina want?  Why did she call?  What does she want from you?” 

 

     The young woman shrugged helplessly.  “I don’t know!  I really don’t!” she cried.  “She sounded so…raspy, so rough.  I’m not sure I ever thought about what my mother would sound like, but I suppose it fits!  And she kept calling me ‘girl’!  It was driving me crazy.  My god, has she forgotten my name, wiped even that off the slate?”  Therese pushed away from the table, propelled by agitation.  It was a small room, and there wasn’t much room to pace, but nonetheless she did.  The movement was medicine, and her breathing eventually calmed enough that she could continue.

 

     “Sabina just said she needed to see me, that she couldn’t come to me and could I please come to Newark?”  Therese looked from Carol to Alicia as if hoping they knew more than her.  “And I said yes because…well because… _Oh, god!  I don’t know why!_   _I just don’t know why!”_

 

     Carol stood, took two steps and had her arms around Therese, pulling her into a firm embrace.  She kissed her forehead, breathing in her scent and for a moment wondered who she was trying to reassure.  Composing herself, she spoke in a soothing voice.  “Therese, darling, for now, just know you’re _here_ , ok?  You’re here in Alicia’s little room at Pace de Christo, and there isn’t a single thing in the world Sabina can do to right now that can hurt you.  Nothing!  She doesn’t even know where you are, and even if she did you know Alicia and I would flatten her!”

 

     From behind them, the nun imperiously intoned, _“Nun or no nun!”_ Carol and Therese turned to look at her, and her loving, cherubic countenance was so at odds with both her statement and the timbre of her voice that it seemed funny.  Therese shook her head, laughter bubbling up from an unexpected well stream.

 

     “Alicia,” she mumbled through a chuckle, “you are…there’s just no words to describe you sometimes!”  Now she laughed, and it was infectious and cleansing, and soon all three of them were chortling.  It seemed the perfect medicine, sweeping away the stress that had only moments earlier painted the afternoon with brushstrokes of thick gray.

 

     With her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson and blue eyes twinkling merrily, Alicia smiled, looking with fondness from Carol to Therese and back again.  “ _You two!_   You’ve got me drinking whiskey, threatening people, laughing uproariously… You’re going to turn me into the degenerate of nuns!”  They all laughed again, and when it faded, Alicia spoke in a far more serious voice.

 

     “Therese, darling, you need to remember that even if Sabina is asking to see you, you’re still in charge.  You could have said no.  You can still say no, change your mind.  You can do whatever you can to meet her on your terms.  Day, time, length of time, setting…and of course, having Carol right by your side.  You need to do as much as you can to empower yourself, okay?”  Therese nodded.

 

     “And please let me know when your visit will be.  I must get the prayer chain going!”

 

                                           _________________________________________

 

     Therese gave up.  She was simply too drained to read or even look at extraordinary photos.  She lay the copy of _Life_ magazine aside and then rested her head back on the pillow with a sigh.  She hadn’t slept that well in the few days since speaking with Sabina, and it was a relief to close her eyes.  Warm and comfortable in their bed, with Carol reading beside her, she found herself drifting, drifting, drowsiness drawing her toward a doze.  For some reason, just before she slept she had a vision of the “redecorators” from her dream.  They seemed to keep visiting her…

 

     _Oh, no!  Not again.  Therese found herself with her bicycle at the bottom of that same huge, steep hill.  She felt disheartened.  The hill was too steep and seemed insurmountable.  But she was determined, if nothing else, and she mounted the bike and began pedaling._

_It wasn’t long before her thighs were on fire.  Gasping for breath, she felt her lungs burning also, that stark, metallic taste that seemed to rise through her throat to her mouth, lodging there.  It was most unpleasant.  The hill was daring her to stop pedaling, and she was pissed.  “No!” she yelled.  She pedaled for all she was worth, but the higher she rose, the steeper the hill became.  Tears of frustration streamed down her sweaty cheeks.  ‘I’m going to fall backward!  I’m going to fall off!’  The thoughts were becoming more and more of a reality, but she just couldn’t seem to quit._

_Onward, upward; onward, upward.  Until finally, she knew it was hopeless.  There was no conquering this hill on her bike.  Gravity was losing its grip on her.  It had won, and she felt it sneer at her.  Soon, she would fall to her death.  She was crying in earnest now.  “I’m going to die!  I’m going to die!”_

_She heard their voices then…the decorators.  Why were they always hanging around?  “Oh, Christ!” Therese cried out, “what the hell do you want?  Can’t you see I’m dying here?”_

_It was the tall one that spoke, the doctor decorator.  “Yes, we know.  We know!  Just let go, darling.  We promise to catch you!  We won’t let you fall…”_

_It was against everything she knew, this letting go… She’d fought it all her life, and now it was no use.  She had no choice.  She looked at her hands.  They clenched the black, rubber handgrips so hard.  The tendons stood out like strong fencing, and still they had failed her._

_“Let go,” the decorators whispered, and it soothed her.  “Let go.”  And finally, with all hope lost, with gravity pulling her backward now, where surely, she would plummet to her death… She let go.  And then   she was free falling, her body a failed missile launch, downward to her death…_

_Until she felt their arms.  Strong, secure arms.  The arms of the lovely decorators, like angels come out of nowhere.  On each side of her, they cradled her, looking down.  “We told you we’d catch you!”_

_And they carried her up and up, and Therese relaxed in their arms, maybe for the first time ever… “Oh!” she whispered on a sigh…_

 

     “Therese?  Darling?”  She heard Carol’s husky voice, felt her cool fingertips caressing her forehead.  She opened her eyes to see her blond lover gazing down at her, a gentle smile adorning her face.  “You were thrashing, sweetheart.  You must have been dreaming?  Are you okay?”

 

     Therese scooted closer to Carol, melting into the strong arms that immediately embraced her.  “It was the decorators,” she mumbled into her chest.  Carol was still, quiet.  “The who, darling?”  The younger woman sighed, tightening her arms, loving the feel of Carol’s warmth, her reassuring scent.  She shook her head.  “It’s nothing really.  Just a dream I keep having.  A repetitive dream.”  She pulled back slightly, so she could capture the other woman’s gaze.  Carol thought her deep, green eyes looked as placid as a mountain lake just before dawn.

 

     Therese had a tender smile on her face.  “They’ve been bugging me.  The decorators!  In this dream, I finally let go.  Finally!  And they weren’t lying, Carol!  They caught me.  It was okay,” she whispered, still surprised, aware of the gratefulness seeping into her consciousness.  _Water for my roots.  A deep,_ _underground spring.  Who knew?_

Carol shook her head, and her blue-gray eyes shimmered in the twilight.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m glad your dream was okay.  You’re so quiet lately…I know you’re thinking about going to see your mother soon.  You’re quiet, and I worry, Therese…” Her voice faded, laden with concern.  She picked up a hand almost involuntarily, running a thumb beneath the younger woman’s bottom lip.  It was warm and soft, and Carol traced back and forth, reassured by the feel of it.

 

     “I miss you when you’re quiet,” she whispered, still gazing at Therese’s lips.  “I feel so far away from you.”  Their eyes met then, the vulnerable blue and quiet green.  _Our own fragile ocean,_ Carol thought, trying to read the silence.  Therese reached up and cupped her cheek with tenderness.  “I’m sorry.  I know I’m quiet, Carol.  Thinking, worrying.  Sometimes praying, I think.”  She leaned over and kissed her gently, her breath soft as feathers.

 

     “Quiet isn’t the same as distant, okay?  I’m sorry, though…if it feels that way.”

 

     It took a few moments, but Carol nodded, taking a relieved breath.  She closed her eyes, focusing on Therese’s warm body, so alive, so dear.  _The very feel of you…_ When she looked at her again, the green eyes were still holding her gaze, transparent and trusting.  A shaft of longing filled her, piercing in its depth.  _I need you to meet me here._ She watched the path of her thumb on those lips, shaken.

“I want to love you,” Carol whispered, her fingers coming up to caress Therese’s brow bones as if they were paths to a buried treasure.  The brunette cupped Carol’s face with warm hands, forcing her to make eye contact.  “I want to love you, too.”  She leaned over to capture Carol’s lips with her own, touching tenderly once, then again.  An answer, a promise.

 

     Their kiss grew impassioned, lips opening and tongues dancing where it was moist and warm and velvety.  Therese sighed, feeling her pulse quicken as she ran impatient hands over Carol’s pajama-clad back.  The older woman had her pinned beneath her, and her lips were everywhere now.  Hairline, brow, cheeks, the shell of a delicate ear, that sweet spot just behind it.  Along the fine-boned jawline, back to her lips once again.  Therese moaned as Carol’s tongue dove deep, moving with erotic intent.  “Please…Carol. _I need to feel you.”_

Their hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, grasping at nightclothes and pulling them off.  When finally, their naked bodies met, Carol felt goosebumps being chased down her arms by a growing heat.  She felt Therese shudder, too, and looked deep into her emerald eyes, darkened to black by now.  “Yes, sweetheart.”  Her whisper was a promise, and Therese shivered.  Carol’s lips found the crease of her neck, her tongue tracing a delicate collarbone.  “Like a hummingbird,” she murmured, moving then to the pulse beating at the hollow of her throat.

 

     Therese grasped her head, running slender fingers through the silky, blond hair.  Her body was anxious with want, with anticipation, her hips moving restlessly.  “Carol, please…”  The older woman captured one of her breasts in her lips, her tongue immediately circling an already erect nipple.  Therese sucked in a breath.  “Oh, god…oh, oh…”  Her eyes filled with tears, the tears that frequently came when they made love.  Irritated with herself, Therese swallowed a sniffle, but Carol had already looked up.

 

     “You’re crying, darling,” she noted, her thumb catching the tears.  Her own body was on fire with want, with an intense desire that left her voice shaky and heart pounding.  “Are you okay?  Is this okay?”  Therese shook her head, more tears finding their way down her wet cheeks.  Her hips were still moving, unconsciously thrusting, seeking Carol’s heated womb.  “Please, Carol!  You… know me… Feelings!  If you don’t touch me now…Please!” she pleaded.

 

     Carol kissed Therese deeply as her long fingers skimmed over her abdomen, her pelvis, through the soft curls to the wet folds beneath.  “Like satin,” the older woman breathed, filling her completely with one commanding thrust.  Therese caught her breath.  “ _Jesus!_   Oh…”  The tears began again, heedlessly.  This time, she let them fall without shame.  _You make me feel this way!_ The thoughts spun in her addled brain, taken over now and drugged by Carol’s tongue and lips and fingers that had found their way between her legs, deep into her innermost folds.

 

     Carol was consumed by her lover’s scent and taste and feel, lost in the art of loving this woman she loved.  As Therese moaned and gasped, her own excitement grew to the point where it was almost unbearable.  When the younger woman gave one final gasp and began to quiver, Carol stayed with her there, loving her through until the shuddering stopped.  Then she moved up and lay her body atop her, beginning to move against a slim thigh immediately.  Therese held Carol’s hips and moved with her.

 

     “Oh, darling, I’m… Mmm…oh, I can’t…” The older woman couldn’t finish.  With her eyes closed, cheeks flushed, face damp and red lips parted, she moved, lost in the almost unbearable pleasure of making love with Therese.  Her breath caught and then released with a moan as she neared her own pinnacle.  She cried out when she climaxed, and Therese held her close, continuing to move together in their dance of love.

 

     Finally, with both women still breathless and covered with a fine sheen of perspiration, Carol moved to lay beside Therese and gather her in her arms, covering them both with a sheet.  She took and released a huge breath, kissing the younger woman on the forehead.  They were quiet for many moments, letting the silence speak. 

 

     After a while, Therese tightened her arms around Carol, then got up on an elbow to look down at her.  She smiled with tenderness.  “I love you,” she offered, her voice serious.  “Even when I’m quiet, I love you.”  Carol smiled, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek.  “I know.  I really do, sweetheart.  Thank you for telling me though.”  She ran a lazy hand down her arm, loving its warmth and softness.  “It always sounds nice to hear.”

 

     Therese just stared at her, and Carol could tell she had something on her mind.  Even in the dim light, she could see the ponderous look in her eyes.  “What is it?”  The younger woman didn’t try to pretend.  She shook her head, looking away with a feeling of insecurity.  “Your mother?” Carol guessed correctly, and the green eyes looked distressed.

 

     “I’m sorry, Carol.  To be thinking of her here, even now… But it’s like this heavy cloak that I can only get out from under for a little while and then, BOOM.  Back it comes!”  She sounded more than a little irritated.

 

     “It’s okay, darling.  _Really._   It’s okay.”  The moon had come out brightly tonight, and as the sky grew dark its beams were just filtering into the bedroom.  Against its light, Carol thought Therese looked almost ethereal; a woodland nymph, come out to play with the night creatures.  Her face so fine-boned and pale, her hair looking like black silk.  And achingly beautiful.

 

     “I need you to know I’m sorry for dragging you through all this,” Therese whispered.  “I’m so sorry.  I wish I was strong enough to handle it on my own!”  Her tone was impassioned, with echoes of self-disgust following closely behind.  The older woman heard this clearly and shook her head.

 

     “No.  I won’t let you go down that path.  I won’t discuss you beating yourself up when all of this is Sabina’s doing!  Not for a minute, Therese.”  Carol slid her hand across the soft bedsheet, grasping one of Therese’s.  “And you can only be where you are right now!  I wish I wouldn’t have dragged you through all the muck with Harge, too, or needed so much support from you.  I still do, for heaven’s sake!”

 

     She reached over, pulling the younger woman into her warm embrace.  “Sweetheart, we are where we are, and so far, we walk beside each other and just… _deal._   The easy things, the hard things…”  Carol brought their foreheads together, breathing in soap and sweat and the scent of their lovemaking.  She sighed, then tilted Therese’s face up, gazing into emerald waters.  She offered a tender smile and a shrug.

 

     “This is us.  This is how we walk.”

 

     Later, Therese lay awake staring at the ceiling in darkness.  Carol was asleep beside her, her breathing deep and slow, reassuring the younger woman.  Benny was snoozing at their feet and just now he stretched his little body, curling back into a contented ball of fur with his delightful, doggy groan. 

 

     Her thoughts came and went like clouds skittering across a windy night sky, none really sticking around long.  Except one, which seemed to drop from the heavens and settle on her chest.  It began to seep into her being, spreading like the morning sun rising over the horizon.  Therese felt slowly filled, warm and calm, even powerful.  It made her smile, and she whispered a prayer of gratitude.

 

     She rose from their bed as if propelled by strong hands— _the_ _decorators, perhaps?—_ walking quietly to the bathroom door and switching on the light.  It shone just enough that the vanity stood out, and she moved toward it, her nakedness strong, graceful, beautiful.

 

     Therese pulled a scrap of paper out of the drawer, writing with sure strokes.  She pasted her work to the mirror, decorated with so many other pieces of paper, and stood back to gaze with satisfaction:

                                                         _I’m scrumptious because I’M THERESE._

_I’m scrumptious because I AM._

 

                                        _________________________________________

 

     The big, luxurious Packard came to a stop in front of the house.  To any onlooker, it would seem completely incongruous with its surroundings.  Carol reluctantly turned off the engine.  She looked at Therese, who gazed at the house with a dubious expression on her face.

 

     “Darling, are you sure this is the address Sabina gave you?”  Therese looked at the rumpled piece of paper in her hands.  She handed it to Carol, who read the hastily scribbled numbers herself: _415 Gooden_ _St., Newark._   “It’s just…not what I expected,” she observed, stating the obvious.

 

     “Neither did I,” Therese replied in an uncertain whisper.  She read the sign out loud: “ _Gooden Street_ _Boarding House_ ,” turning to look at her companion with a mystified expression.  “Carol, my mother lives in a boarding house?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you beautiful women reading this, and to those of you commenting and sharing yourselves...  
> You are strong and lovely and inspiring to this author.  
> You bless me deeply, more than I can say.   
> Sending you love and unfailing thankfulness!


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The soul always knows   
> what to do to heal itself.  
> The challenge  
> is to silence the mind.  
> Caroline Myss
> 
> When we deny the story,  
> it defines us.  
> When we own the story.  
> we can write a brave new ending.  
> Brene Brown

 

     Therese walked up the steps of the boarding house, the wood splintered and bleached. She wondered when it had last been painted, if it was even in this century.  She wondered whether the falling shutters had ever been straight and whether a stranger was peering down through the haze of the second story windows.  She wondered how Sabina had ended up in such a place.  She wondered what her mother looked like, and whether even a vague sense of familiarity might flame to life inside the folds of her childhood memory book.

 

     Most of all, Therese wondered why she felt so calm and why this felt so impossibly _right;_ why she wasn’t a vomiting mess and why she was certain coming here was the only decision she could make.  As Carol held the front door open, Therese smiled faintly up at her, hoping the boldness she felt was somehow communicated and reassuring to her friend and lover.

 

     They hadn’t taken two steps into the musty foyer when she saw her: a slight, almost thin woman with graying brown hair falling in limp strands against an angular, pale face that looked like faded newsprint in the dim lighting.  She wore the same blue skirt Carol had seen her in six weeks ago, but it hung on her frame in a manner suggesting she’d recently lost weight.  Her floral print blouse was clean but faded and her brown flats appeared to have been wiped clean of late summer dust.  She held a cigarette in her left hand.  It shook, sending up crooked waves of smoke in a grayish-blue plume.

 

     “It’s good of you to come, girl,” Sabina noted with a nervous flutter of her eyes, a clipped nod.

 

     Therese stared at her.  _So.  You’re my mother._   _Do I…do I look at all like you?  Who are you?  Nothing but a stranger._ _I could have passed you on the street a thousand times and never known it_ _was you._ The thoughts made her sad, made her angry.  She lifted her chin, shaking her head.  “Don’t call me girl,” she replied in a firm but quiet voice.

 

     “I didn’t hear you?” Sabina turned the statement into a question, tilting her head.  Carol thought it was fitting, as this whole situation made it seem as if the earth was off its axis.

 

     “I said, don’t call me girl, Sabina.  _MY NAME IS THERESE!”_ the young brunette bit out, her nostrils flaring in quick temper, her pain gnawing a hole in her underbelly.  She held herself with a grace and command and maturity that left no doubt as to her womanhood.  Carol looked at her, supremely proud in a way she couldn’t quite describe.  A sudden image of a lioness flashed through her mind.

 

     Sabina held up her free hand, and it shook, too.  “Okay, yes.  _Therese._ I’m sorry.”  She nodded, her voice and breathing raspy.

 

     “What do you want?”  Therese’s question held a note of irritation, an _I’m-so-over-this-already_ tone.  Carol looked pointedly at her mother, trying not to inflict poisoned darts with either her eyes or grimace.  But she couldn’t deny she would pounce at the slightest provocation, the merest hint of emotional aggression toward Therese.

 

     “I said, _what do you want from me?_   And why,” she asked distractedly, “are you calling yourself Sabina and not Esther?” 

 

     Sabina’s face fell, from embarrassment or shame, or neither.  She shrugged her thin shoulders, looking pained.  “It was a stage name, back when I was performing.”  Her voice was very quiet.  She didn’t make eye contact.

 

     “Obviously, you never made it big as a pianist,” Therese observed.  She felt primed to punish, and she knew it.  The young woman couldn’t decide what felt so dangerous about that, but it did.

 

     “No…no, I never did.  And I don’t want anything from you, Therese.”  Sabina sighed.  Suddenly she felt exhausted and far older than her years, if that was even possible.  “Can we—I need to—” She shook her head, pushing away thoughts, excuses, explanations.  None of it mattered, now.  The floorboards seemed to blur in her vision, and she wavered on her feet.  Carol noticed, saw the perspiration that broke out over Sabina’s forehead, and her sickly pallor.

 

     “I don’t want anything, Therese.  I just need to—It’s in--” she stopped, indicating the door behind them with a wave of her hand.  “It’s in here.  Wait…please.”  Sabina turned around, taking a couple steps and opening the faded blue door, which creaked on its hinges.  Therese noticed ashes falling from the cigarette she’d yet to bring to her lips, watched them fall haphazardly, disintegrating before reaching the floor.  _Vanishing, like my childhood._

Suddenly, it was all too much.  She made an involuntary sound, both a whimper and a cry of despair.  Carol’s head spun around, her blond hair a flowing curtain ready to close on this scene.  Ever aware, ever protective, her eyes narrowed.  Therese looked strong but fatigued; Carol had a sudden memory of the way she felt after having given birth to Rindy.  _I can conquer the world, but I need to sleep for days and this baby is screaming with hunger and I have no idea how to make her drink from my nipple._

“Therese?  Do you need to go?”  The young brunette was staring blankly at the faded door, paralyzed by the weight of her thoughts, by the closed door.  _Always going, going…_

“Therese?  Sweetheart?”  Carol’s voice penetrated, and Therese made eye contact, her green eyes like an endless sea, one with no horizon.  Carol took her hand, squeezed it briefly before letting go.  “Why don’t you go to the car, darling?  I’ll finish up with Sabina.  Go, Therese. Take care of yourself.”

She shook her head, and Carol longed to hold her for a moment, to put her lips to her forehead.    “No…no.  I’m perfectly—” The door opened, and Sabina stepped into the foyer with two large manila envelopes in her hand.  She paused, contemplating the tall, lovely blond and petite brunette before her.

“Are the two of you…together?” 

 

     Carol was once again ready to pounce, but Therese took her hand, clenching with a strong grip.  She didn’t let go.  “Not that it’s any of your business, Sabina, but yes.  We’re _together.”_   The young woman spoke with authority, daring her mother to object.

 

     But the trembling older woman just nodded and took a deep breath.  “Good.  It’s good.”  She paused, eyes averted, looking down at her shaking hands, at the envelopes.  Therese noticed bruising on her hands and forearms, the corded tendons tense and fragile.  “I didn’t want to mail this…or stand in a hallway giving it to you but…”  Sabina took a step forward, handing over the envelopes.  They felt heavy in Therese’s hands, full.  She thought her mother smelled like cigarettes in an old, musty attic.

 

     Sabina could barely make eye contact, but when she did a ghost of anger came and went quickly.  She took a labored breath.  “Nick is dead, Therese.  And you have—” She stopped, uncertain how to continue.  The woman was clearly agitated, flexing her thin shoulders and shuffling her feet.

 

     “I know I took you from a family.”  Her words were stark, honest, and painful to hear for Therese and Carol, both of whom were on the verge of fleeing.  Therese wondered if perhaps she was in a theater, watching a movie about someone else’s life.  “But you have one.  A brother, a sister…It’s all in there,” she explained with a nod at the envelopes.

 

     Therese just stared at her, mutely, and Carol noticed how both Therese and Sabina were physically shaking.  She put an arm around her, pulling her into the warm nest of her shoulder, ready to damn to hell anyone who walked through the front door just then.

 

     “I have to go now.”  Sabina spoke through a clenched and shaking jaw, her voice trembling, her pallor gray.  “Thank you for coming, Therese.  Thank you, Carol.”  Therese thought she saw tears come and go, and she wanted to say something, but no words would come.  Carol nudged her. “Therese.  Let’s go, darling,” she encouraged softly.

_Going, going.  Always going.  Back through the door.  Walking out of my life again.  Going, going._ The words ran through her head, a painful mantra, a pool of newsprint running in the rain.  Therese trembled, about to collapse.  But it was then she felt them, their hands grasping under her armpits and holding her up.  _The redecorators.  I feel you!  Thank God.  Catch me.  I’m falling off the hill…Please, catch me._

“Sabina?  Why?”

 

     The older woman didn’t feign ignorance.  She looked directly at Therese then, her eyes shadowed and full.  “Because I couldn’t—because Nick would have—” She stopped, closing her eyes for a moment, every limb shaking.  “Because I was always selfish.  I still am.  And because I’m--” This time Therese was certain she saw tears.

 

     “Because your brother and sister need a family, and you have one.”  She turned and walked through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter...I had no idea where it was going and it gave as much as it took. I had no  
> idea that writing fiction might take courage. This chapter did.
> 
> If you are still with me, still reading, still out there...  
> Thank you. It helps to know you're there.  
> Wishing you love.


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my parents, who taught me to pray.

_  
_

_Anguish._ The moment it speared her awareness, Alicia knew it was about Therese.  Knew this was the day and perhaps the very moment she was seeing her mother.  The old nun clutched at her breast above the heart, holding her brown tunic out of the sheer need to hold and be held.  She put her head back and her veil caught the slight breeze; lifted, perhaps, on the wings of the prayers that came unbidden and flowed unheeded.

 

     _Therese._   That dear child.  _Mercy, Lord.  Show her mercy.  Hold her with merciful hands.  Grant her_ _your merciful heart.  Guide her with mercy.  Embrace her with mercy.  Bless her with merciful love.  Mercy, mercy, mercy._

                                                       

                                             _____________________________________

 

     Carol couldn’t bear the thought of entering the stream of frenetic traffic.  It would be too harsh, too jarring, and she had been jolted enough for one afternoon.  She looked at Therese briefly and saw the   perspiration beaded on her brow, the flush to the young woman’s cheeks.  _She’s been jolted even more._     Reaching over to squeeze her hand, she murmured, “I’m going to find us a park to sit for a while, darling.”  When Therese made no response, Carol engaged the Packard and pulled away from the curb.

 

     She knew very little about Newark, New Jersey, and drove with the very simple hope of finding groves of trees before she got them mugged.  Therese remained silent, deep in thought, as she would have expected, and Carol felt lost _.  I never imagined all of this could transpire.  How did our relationship even_ _lead here?  We meet over a counter in a department store, and almost two years later we’re…Where are we, exactly?  Good god.  Sitting with her deepest pain, as we have with mine, too.  Is this love?_

 

     The lovely blond sighed tremulously and was relieved when she saw a sign for a city park.  This late in the afternoon she supposed the kids had headed home for dinner, and she was glad.  It looked empty, with the exception of a person here or there, sitting on benches with slouched shoulders and clouds of cigarette smoke drifting above them.  _God, I’d kill for one now!_  

 

     When the engine stilled, Therese turned to her, a wan smile on her face.  “Thank you.  I’m really glad…” She gazed out the window with a small wave, then looked at her own hand as if she was surprised to see it.  She sighed.  “I couldn’t bear the traffic just now…the horns blaring.  Can we just go sit?”

 

     Carol nodded, smiling with relief.  “Please, sweetheart.”  They exited the car, but not before Therese grabbed the folders from Sabina, clutching them to her chest as they walked.  They settled side by side on a shaded bench, sighing simultaneously.  Neither of them spoke, and Carol peered closely at her girlfriend.  The breeze blew lightly, a gift in the humid, late August heat, and she watched strands of Therese’s silky brown hair dance at the back of her head and lift her bangs.  Her lovely face seemed composed, but Carol really had no idea how the young woman was feeling.

 

     “Therese, darling, that was quite…I don’t have the words.  Maybe there are none.  But I don’t know what you need now, how to help…if I can.”  Her deep, measured voice trailed away in misery.  “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling.”

 

     Therese paused for only a moment, then looked at Carol directly, her emerald eyes as clear as a mountain spring.  “She’s dying, Carol.”  The words were blunt, a truth that took no prisoners.  Carol caught her breath, nodding.

 

     “Yes.  I think so, too.”  She spoke in a hushed voice and wasn’t sure why.  She was even less sure why her heart seemed to skip a beat.  _The woman is a stranger._ But her erratic heartbeat thudded on, making her uncomfortable.

 

     “I didn’t know…I couldn’t guess what she would even look like.”  The pain in Therese’s voice was impossible to miss.  “It’s been so long, I was so young then.  I wonder if she’s walked past me at all…on the street, without me knowing it.”  A pause then, to catch her breath.  “I would never have known it.”  She felt sorrow clutch at her heart, at her pale yellow blouse, at the very roots of her hair.  “She’s always leaving me.  My god, it hurts, Carol.  Even if she’s a stranger now, it hurts.”

 

     The older woman clenched her hands into fists, feeling helpless and angry.  “I can’t imagine, sweetheart.”  She looked around, bemoaning this public spot, her angry frustration deepening.  “I wish I could hold you.  Give you that comfort, at least.”  She looked around again, shaking her head.  “It’s so absurd that I can’t.  But I want to, darling!  _I want to take this all away!”_ Her voice resonated with passion and despair and she felt ready to disembark at the port of her very own skin.  _Jesus!_

The smile Therese gave her was heartbreakingly sad.  “I know.”  Her eyes filled with tears, making the green go darker _.  Is this what emeralds look like in a cave?  So deep, like endless pools…_ Carol’s unscripted thoughts seemed to pummel her, leading her astray. 

 

     “Can we do something unusual?”  Carol’s blue gray eyes snapped to attention at the sound of her girlfriend’s tentative question, and she offered a smile of pure irony, with a touch of her trademark cynicism hot on its heels.  “As opposed to what, sweetheart?”  She shook her head, her blond hair moving like silken honey from a jar.  “As if this… _place_ we’re in is normal?  Even the slightest bit?”

 

     The young brunette chuckled, an almost melodic sound that seemed to cut at least a small chunk from the tension they were both feeling.  “Let me pray.”  Her voice held an earnest note.  “I don’t know what else to do right now, Carol,” she explained.  “Where to go, what to say, how to be.  And Alicia would always pray with me when I was little and distraught.”  She paused, a childhood of memories splayed across her suddenly softened expression.  “She’s probably praying now, anyhow, along with her four hundred nuns, or whatever…”

 

     Warmth filled the other woman’s heart that Therese would even think to pray at this time.  _But if not_ _now, then when?_ Her smile reflected an enduring fondness.  “Yes, of course we can!  I don’t…I don’t have words though…”  But Therese was already closing those beautiful eyes, taking a deep breath.

 

     “God, I don’t know who you are and what you do… Maybe you’re just the breeze and the trees…maybe the sun, maybe my heart.  I don’t know, and I’m not sure if you listen to us.”  She paused, aware she wanted to quit and felt foolish.  Still, she found the strength to continue.

 

     “I don’t know what to do now.  Or even if I should do anything.  Help me to know.  Send the Holy Spirit, like Alicia asks for.  Make me—make us wiser than we are.  Thank you.”

 

                                           __________________________________________

 

     At Pace de Christo, Alicia knelt in the chapel, her hip shouting in unattended pain.  Next to her was Sr. Mary Margaretta, and Sr. Francis Grace, and Sr. Katherine Winnifred.  The entire chapel was filled with the Franciscans.  Their heads were bowed uniformly, hands clasped in prayer, some with rosary beads strung from their fingers.  The late day sun spilled in through the high, stained-glass windows, and color-dappled waves danced upon their brown tunics, the pews, and the roughly-hewn floorboards.

 

     The room smelled faintly of incense and beeswax, a sweet, comforting scent left by the thousands of devotional candles lit in this room by thousands of devoted sisters.  Now, two white candles were lit on the simple, wooden altar, their flames undulating as the air whispered its words of faith and comfort.

 

     Alicia’s mind, her heart, her entire being held Therese and Carol and yes, even Sabina in a protective light, surrounded by a love she was ever certain was much bigger, much more immense than any love she had ever been capable of.  She held the image in her heart where it beat faithfully, hovering with powerful, mysterious energy.  She cleared her throat, suddenly moved to sing:

_“Come Holy Ghost, Creator blessed, and in our hearts take up Thy rest,_

_Come with Thy grace, and heavenly aid, to fill the hearts_

_Which Thou has made._

_To fill the hearts, which Thou has made.”_

 

     The old nun’s voice rang out, clear and bright, and the other nuns joined in one by one.

 

                      _“Oh, Comforter, to Thee we cry…”_

 

                                         ___________________________________________

 

     Despite the doubting simplicity of her prayer, Therese found herself feeling more peaceful in the silence that followed.  She heard Carol’s steadied breathing, the rustle of the leaves in the trees, the sound of traffic in the distance.  She felt the breeze on her face, soft as  butterfly’s kiss, and the warm air riding fragrant currents around her.  Her tense muscles had relaxed, and her heartbeat thudded with calm reassurance.

 

     The young woman opened her eyes, taking a deep, cleansing breath.  She offered a small smile, not even knowing why.  Turning to Carol, she spoke softly, her head moving in slow elegance.  “I don’t know why, but I’m calmer now.  You know?”  Seeing her companion’s nod, the uplifted eyebrows above her placid gaze, she forged ahead.

 

     “At first, when Sabina said something about me having a family and gave me these envelopes, I just wanted…”  She stopped to corral her wayward thoughts.  “I wanted to whip them at her head, Carol!  A part of me still does!  Even if she does seem to be dying…”  She expelled a heavy sigh, her eyes piercing Carol with their emerald brilliance.  “But I have to know!  Who they are, where they…where they might be!  Is that okay?”

 

     “Of course, it is, Therese!”  The older woman’s endorsement was sharp, quick.  “I’d want to know, too!”  Rindy’s face flooded her vision for the merest instant and she caught her breath in immediate understanding.  She reached over, enfolding Therese’s hand in her own.  “Don’t forget, I know what it feels like to have family taken away…”  Carol smiled through her loss, and Therese loved her for her courage.  “It’s perfectly okay to want to know, sweetheart.  Maybe even necessary at this point, yes?”

 

     Therese nodded, taking her hand back and thrusting the manila envelopes in her girlfriend’s lap.  “Yes!  So, you open them!” she ordered.  Her movements and tone were so abrupt and commanding that Carol let go a shout of laughter.  “Therese!  _No!_   This is too important for me to open!”  Her nervousness broke through in uncharacteristic, staccato giggles, but the shake of her head was firm.  “No, darling,” she went on, “these are yours.  This is about _your family._ ”  She gave the envelopes back to Therese, picking up one of her hands and pressing it down on top of them.

 

     “I’ll sit here with you, be right next to you, darling.  You can do this!  _Open them._   We’ll find out together.”

 

     Therese looked away, thoughts of Sabina coming at her like a tsunami now.

 

      Sabina, who was probably dying. 

 

     Sabina, whose skin looked sallow and weathered, who was alarmingly thin, who lived in a rickety old boarding house with strangers.

 

     Sabina, who gave her away. 

 

     Sabina, who brought her into this life, a life she loved.

 

     Sabina, who raised her for three years, at least, mothering her the best she could, she supposed.

 

_Both…and._   Alicia’s wisdom came to call, the old nun’s beloved voice echoing down the storied passageways of their long history, painting pictures on the walls that Therese was squinting to see clearly. _Both…and?_ Oh, yes.  Yes!  Both…and!  Both the good and the bad, the light and the dark, the beautiful and the ugly.  _I’m a both/and, Carol’s a both/and, Alicia’s a both/and.  Even Sabina.  Sabina’s a both/and, too._

 

     She sighed, somehow emboldened, strengthened by Alicia’s voice in her head and Carol’s beloved presence beside her on the splintered park bench. She picked up an envelope, struck once again by its heft.  _The heaviness of my history._ Opening it, she drew out the uppermost piece of paper, noting its handwritten content immediately.  A piece of paper, the pulp of a tree, its compressed history which perhaps also now held hers.  Why were so may fates written upon something so flimsy?

 

     A heartbeat passed, then another.  Therese raised her eyes to Carol even as she reached out for her forearm, which she clasped tightly.

 

     “It’s a letter, Carol.  From Sabina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, as always. It really is a humbling thing, to have your company on this journey. 
> 
> Many blessings to you all.


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Anne Lamott:  
> Faith includes noticing the mess,  
> the emptiness and discomfort,  
> and letting it be there  
> until some light returns.
> 
> And another:  
> I do not at all understand  
> the mystery of grace--  
> only that it meets us  
> where we are   
> but does not leave us  
> where it found us.

     Dear Therese,

      If you’re reading this, you’ve obviously gone as far as opening the envelopes and this would make me glad.  Not that you have to do a single thing for me.  I’m not writing this to ask anything of you.  I want to give you something.  And I know you don’t have to read this, or care about what is written here, either.  I am a stranger to you and I know this.  All the same, I’m glad you’ve come this far.  And I thank you for doing so.

      I’m very ill.  I have kidney cancer and probably not long to live.  It makes me sad, but not really.  Life has been very hard, and I will not be sad to leave it.  Death seems more an inviting escape than an ending.   

     I loved your father, Therese.  He was a good, smart, gentle man.  Why he fell in love with me, I‘ll never know.  I wasn’t much of a catch.  My own father went off to fight in the war and never came home.  That left mother to raise us as a housewife with no employable skills.  When she died, the three of us scattered to the winds. 

     Your father and I met while I was cleaning rooms in a hotel and teaching myself to play piano after hours in the bar.  We fell in love and married.  Life was good for a while.  You were a beautiful child, and well-loved.  But then your father died, and I was left to raise you on my own.  Like my mother, I had no skills to offer and no family to support me in raising you.

     The easy way out was to marry your stepdad, which I quickly did. I thought Nick and I could make a good life together and with you.  But I was very wrong.  He was short-tempered and intolerant.  He also drank too much and was prone to violent rages when he did.  When I became pregnant with your brother, Nick’s drinking increased.  Our home was something of a war zone.  Eventually, he issued an ultimatum: I could stay with him with “our” son, but he would not support the child of another man.  Even if you were mine, Therese.  So, I did the only thing I thought I could do.

     I made the selfish choice, the one that changed your life and took you from mine.  I wanted a husband and home, a chance to be a pianist.  I didn’t want to live on the streets again.  And I was afraid for you and feared Nick would hurt you.  I had heard about St. Agatha’s because so many war babies were taken there in the forties.  It had a good reputation.  It was piercingly painful at the time, but it also felt like what I had to do.  So, I took you to be raised by the nuns there.

     Nick died several years ago from head injuries in a bar room brawl.  It was appropriate and frankly, I’m glad he’s dead.  Now it’s me who will soon be gone.

     I know I took you from your family.  I’m sure you want nothing to do with me, and it’s okay.  But when I saw your name under a photo you took in _The New York Times_ , I was left with a strong yearning to give you them back, maybe to do one kindhearted thing in my lifetime.

     Your half-brother, Peter, is nineteen now.  He did the smart thing and escaped his dad as soon as he could.  He’s in the Navy, somewhere in the Pacific.  Millicent is almost sixteen.  She was with me until about a six months ago, when I became too ill to look after her.  The two of you have more in common than the same mother.  She lives at St. Agatha’s now, and I’m told she’s doing well.  I didn’t know where else to take her.  There’s no other family, and I couldn’t stand the thought of her living on the streets.

     You may not want anything to do with Peter and Millicent, and I wouldn’t blame you.  They, too, are strangers to you.  I feel like my legacy in life is my many failures.  When you know you are going to die, though, you tend to want to do at least one thing right.  It’s important to me that you know you have a brother and sister.  You three kids brought me some of the only moments of contentment and joy I’ve ever known.  Perhaps you can give this to each other, someday.

     This is it then, Therese.  I’ll soon be gone.  I wish you well and hope the best for you.

                                                                      Sabina

 

                                        _________________________________________________

 

     Therese finished reading the letter and fell silent.  Her fingers shook and the paper rattled, its whiffling sound seeming out of place here on this park bench.  She took several slow, deep breaths, drawing in the dense, fragrant air with closed eyes _.  I like you, birds, because you sing no matter what and yours is always a sweet sound I can count on.  I hope you never stop singing.  Sing especially for me now, until your song pulses in my blood and powers my heart along._

 

     Next to her, Carol watched closely.  Therese’s stillness, her silence was disconcerting, leaving the older woman at a loss.  _Once again._ But just as she was about to speak, Therese turned sideways.  Carol thought of a porcelain doll for a moment, beautiful and graceful and composed.  Therese tilted her head, smiled softly, perhaps with a touch of bittersweet.

 

     “Will you read it, Carol?”  The tall blond simply reached out a hand in reply.  As she read, her heart ached for so many reasons and so much loss.  But mostly for Therese, who was still sitting in her composed stillness, as if she hadn’t just said hello and goodbye to her mother in the course of a few minutes.  It was impossible to know what to feel.

 

     “It makes me sad.”  Two squirrels scurried up the trunk of a nearby maple tree; Therese watched their rambunctious antics as she spoke.  Higher up now, out on a thick limb, then back to the tree’s trunk where they darted to another branch, one squirrel still in hot pursuit.  “And just…I don’t even know.”  Her soft voice trailed away, almost drowned out by the squawking squirrels.

 

     Carol was still at a loss, floundering, aching to simply embrace the younger woman.  “I don’t know either, sweetheart.”  The breeze blew their hair about; their skirts waved and leaves rustled.  Carol was perspiring.  Her back felt uncomfortable where her blouse was stuck to clammy skin.  She was grateful for the wind.  “I’m not sure what to say.”

 

     Therese still appeared absorbed by the squirrels’ sideshow.  The two animals appeared to be on the verge of coming to blows, standing on their hind legs now, hissing, perhaps daring one another.  She shook her head.  “Wow, I wonder if they ever knock each other out of the tree!”  Taking a deep breath, she looked at Carol, her emerald eyes dark, their green depths unfathomable.

 

     “I feel like I should be enraged.  But I’m not.”  A heavy sigh escaped her.  “Maybe I will be, but now…”  The squirrels were dashing about again.  It was a madcap adventure that left her mystified and amused.  “Now she just seems sad and…”  She shook her head again.  “Pathetic and strong?  Is that possible?”

 

     Carol nodded.  “I think so, sweetheart.”  She didn’t feel wise enough to say more.  The younger woman’s gaze was piercing now, like emeralds aflame.  Carol felt its intensity, catching her breath.

 

     “I don’t want to take care of her, Carol.”  There was strength and certainty in her voice.  “Is that okay?”  The older woman reached across the distance between them and clutched Therese’s hand, which felt heated, like her eyes.  “I think it’s _very_ okay, Therese.  I don’t want you to do a single thing you don’t want to do.  And if you walked away now, that would be understandable, too.”

 

     But the younger woman shook her head, her conviction stated clearly.  “No.  No, I can’t.”  She stood, aware of a fleeting ache in her bones, in her muscles.  Looking up, she watched the squirrels hiss once again.  “I don’t want to take care of Sabina.  But I don’t want to abandon her, either.  Or my… _my brother_ _and sister.”_   She whispered the last, tasting the words on her tongue as is sampling a new food, a new meal.

 

     Carol didn’t know what this meant, but it didn’t surprise her, either.  Not knowing Therese as she did.  “Okay.”  Her answer was her support, and she tried to keep the fear out of her voice.  Where was this going?

 

     Therese clenched her fists, but not in anger.  Her expression was bold now, and she looked very grown up, completely adult in a way that made Carol feel both proud and melancholy.  _“I don’t want to_ _be Sabina._ I can’t abandon.  Not like she did.”  She came quickly back to the bench, sat down in a way that communicated strength and purpose.  “What good does it do if I only deepen the wound?”  She shook her head for what seemed like the hundredth time.

 

     “I can’t take care of Sabina.  I just can’t.  But I can’t abandon her.  Or Millicent and Peter.”  She spun her head around, away from the squabbling, noisy squirrels.  _“I won’t be her.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With much gratitude, for life and love and you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will give you a new heart  
> and put a new spirit within you.  
> I will remove from you   
> your heart of stone  
> and give you  
> a heart of flesh.
> 
> Ezekiel 36:26

     They lay in bed that night, both exhausted from the emotional rigors of the day.  On their sides, naked, eyes closed, stroking warm, soft skin.  Familiar skin.  Carol breathed in her scent—Therese’s scent—which somehow always managed to be fresh and sweet and inviting, she thought.  Even now, at the end of a long, tumultuous day.  With a deep breath, she tightened her arms.  Fear had been nipping at her heels all day.  Pushing its way into the picture frame, an inky, watercolor cloud that was threatening to spread.

“Carol?”  Therese heard her lover’s sigh, felt the subtle but noticeable shift of energy.  When Carol didn’t respond, she pulled herself slightly away, so she could see her face.  “Are you okay?”  The other woman just stared back, her blue-gray eyes slightly narrowed.  “I can feel it.  What’s wrong?  I mean…besides Sabina…”  The dark cloak standing outside the door.

Carol took another breath, her eyes drifting closed.  She waged her inner war for a few more seconds and then spoke, not sure if it was in victory or defeat.  “I think I’m afraid for…things to change.”  Her voice was soft, measured.  Her eyes, open now, reflected raw vulnerability.  A very un-Carol-like vulnerability she had grown into here, and only here.

 

     Therese felt her heart clench and tightened her own slender arms.  A brief flash of irritation sparked in the depths of her green eyes.  _Sabina._ She released a pent-up breath, then leaned to press a fervent kiss to Carol’s lips.

 

     “I know.  I am, too.”  She sighed, kissing her again, trying to stave off the fingers of fear that clawed at her fragile self-control.  _Please…I need this.  Please don’t let this change.  Because of my family.  Holy_ _Christ…I have a_ family. 

 

     Carol watched the conversation taking place behind Therese’s eyes, the way her delicate facial muscles tensed and her nose turned red.  _She feels it, too._ Her heart softened with tenderness toward the slender woman whose bones felt fragile beneath her stroking fingers.  It was like holding an exquisite bird or tiny flower, splashed with pale moonlight or early morning dew.  Unable to help herself, she came a wisp closer and kissed Therese’s forehead, breathing in.  A still point, a pocket of quiet.

 

     Therese offered a small smile that soon faltered.  “All of this, Carol…I don’t know how to do it,” she whispered with transparent honesty.  “I wish I could make it not be happening!”  Her impassioned voice shook.  “And Sabina…I don’t…I can’t just—" She stopped then, tears appearing and turning her eyes into iridescent pools.  “And Peter and Millicent, too…”  She gripped Carol’s shoulder until it almost hurt. 

 

    “But I need _you.”_

 

     Carol brought a hand up, stroking her cool, soft cheek, running the pad of her thumb along that finely carved bone.  The most exquisite china.  “I need you, too, sweetheart.”  She kissed her smooth forehead again, took another deep breath, seeking comfort. 

 

     They fell silent, their shared vulnerability laying there, too, with a heartbeat all its own.

 

                                           _____________________________________

 

     “Holy Christ, Carol.  Her mother.  A brother.  A sister.”  Abby paused, taking another pull on the cigarette they shared, releasing the cloud of smoke with satisfaction.  “I wouldn’t even know how to begin dealing with all that.  And Sabina, so ill…”  She leaned to hand the cigarette back to Carol, her voice trailing away, chasing the smoke in a sudden updraft.

 

     The two best friends were sitting out back of the furniture store, which was closed for lunch.  The afternoon was warm, and they had both kicked off their heels with relief.  It was surprisingly quiet by Manhattan standards which meant that, at the moment, there were no sirens blaring and the cacophony of traffic, car horns, and human voices was at least muted enough that they didn’t have to raise their voices.

 

     Carol blew out her own puff of smoke, squinting as she watched it rise amidst the gray concrete that towered above.  Turning her gaze to Abby, she offered a wan smile, blue-gray eyes brimming with misgiving. “Well, Abby, I don’t think Therese knows how to deal with it, either.  Neither do I.”  Her voice was soft but by no means weak.

 

     The lovely, auburn-haired woman looked closely at her friend, her eyes narrowing.  “Are you taking care of yourself?”  The blond turned her head sharply, a flash of irritation skipping fleetingly across her features.  “Meaning what?”  Abby watched her nostrils flare, saw her take a calming draw on the cigarette.  When she spoke it was with measured words.

 

     “Meaning…maybe this is more than you bargained for with this relationship.”  It was stark, honest, raw, and struck a nerve in the other woman.

 

     “ _Jesus,_ Abby, you’re not suggesting I _leave_ Therese now…when her mother is deathly ill and she’s reeling from all this!”  Carol’s face was twisted into an angry grimace, her chest rising and falling in agitation.  Abby shook her head.  “No, I’m not, Carol.  But maybe you have to figure out how to keep enough distance, so you don’t… Oh, I don’t know!  I just want you to take care of yourself!  You two are just always—”

 

     “Always what?” Carol interrupted, her tone sharp.

 

     Her companion shifted on the worn bench, absentmindedly hoping the wood wasn’t splintering her blue linen skirt.  She made direct eye contact, her gaze replete with a lifetime’s knowledge about her friend.  She shook her head again.  “I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say.  Your relationship with Therese is just so _involved,_ for Christ’s sake.  And you’re always fucking _talking things through!”_

 

     Carol stopped, mouth agape, then gave a shout of unexpected laughter, delight bubbling up and spilling out of her amused eyes.  “And Abby,” she stuttered between huffs of laughter while stubbing out the cigarette, “what would you suggest we do otherwise?”

 

     Sensing the motivations behind her own thinking, Abby plunged ahead, eyebrows raised in speculation.  “A good old-fashioned argument and then hot make-up sex?”  Her blond friend threw her head back in a fresh burst of laughter; this time, Abby joined in.  Carol realized it felt good to laugh, a blessed relief in the face of all that her and Therese had so courageously faced in the last few days. 

 

     She bumped Abby’s shoulder with her own, a gesture more befitting a ten-year old than a sophisticated, grown woman.  “Abigail, you are so good for me!”  Her eyes shown with affection for her oldest friend, her features suddenly soft and light and airy.  “Whatever you do, don’t stop making me laugh.”

 

     “Never.”

 

     “Or helping me escape the heavier crap.”

 

     “Moi?  I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

     Carol grabbed for her hand, squeezing tightly.  “Or being my friend.”

 

     The striking, auburn-haired woman responded in kind, their slender fingers entwined.  “Not in this lifetime, Carol.”

                                              _______________________________________

 

     “So, what do I do?” Therese asked, knowing there truly was no right answer. 

 

     On the other end of the line, Alicia took a breath, expelling it slowly.  _Mater Dei._   She crossed herself, the quick prayer genuine nonetheless.  _The things they ask me!_ After a pause, she replied, “Therese dear, what do you think I can tell you?”

 

     The younger woman sighed, watching the tip of her big toe as she drew imaginary circles in the living room carpet.  “You’re going to tell me you don’t know what I should do, Alicia.  But I want you to know!  Please, at least lie to me!”  The nun chuckled quietly.  “Ah, I wish.  But somewhere along the way my crystal ball was dropped and shattered.”  She paused again, then added, “Really, I’m not sure there’s a right or wrong, Therese.  There’s only what’s right or wrong for you, based on where you are in your own healing journey.  Do you see?”

 

     Therese was still watching her toe, absorbed in the picture she drew, the endless circles that were inexplicably calming.  _Toe Circles on Carpet, September 4th._

 

     “Therese?”  Alicia’s soft, benevolent voice broke through her reverie.  The young brunette took a breath.  “I’m sorry.  I got distracted.  And yes…I see.”  She fell silent, her lips twitching as she considered her question.  “Can I ask you something?  Well, actually, two things?”  She fidgeted, and now her heel tapped the floor, revealing her agitation.

 

     “Of course, dear one.  Ask away.”

 

     “Do I have to be with Sabina when she’s dying, and do I need to forgive her?”  Her queries were blunt, honest, with all of Therese’s typical transparency, and they left Alicia staggering under their weight.

 

     “Oh, my goodness child!”  The old nun shook her head, glad she wasn’t wearing her veil at this time of night; its weight might be her undoing.  “Child, child!  How long do you have?  Do you want a psychological response?  A religious one?  Something spiritual in nature?”

 

     Tears filled Therese’s eyes unexpectedly, because the truth cut through her like a blade.  “I want… _a motherly response_ , Alicia.”  She was silenced by the ache that washed over her, its intensity vibrating like a tuning fork that made her teeth clench.  “ _Your_ motherly response.”

 

     Alicia smiled fondly, if with a touch of melancholy.  “Darling girl, if we were together I would hold you now,” she murmured, almost to herself.  She cleared her throat, which felt thick with emotion.  “The motherly answer I would offer would be that no, you don’t have to be with Sabina when she’s dying, and no, you don’t have to forgive her.”

 

     Therese sighed audibly.  “I was worried you were going to say yes, and yes.”  The Franciscan sister took a sip of her tepid tea, making a quick decision.  “May I share something with you, my dear?”

 

     The young woman’s response was swift.  “Oh, yes, Alicia.  I want you to!”

 

     “You know my story, or at least a lot of it.  The rape and all that horror.  Ach!”  The single syllable held a remembered pain, but one with muted edges.  “I was so young and full of myself!  And absolutely certain I _should_ , _would_ , and _could_ forgive him, at least at some point.”

 

     “And…did you?” Therese asked in a whisper of a voice, as if she feared Alicia’s answer.

 

     The nun laughed, genuinely amused at the memory of her sanctimonious young self.  “Therese, darling, no, I did not.  Not then.  And now, forty years later, I still can’t say I have.  But I did learn how very hard it is to forgive, how to surrender this part of my heart to God, too, to invite the Spirit to work in me.”

 

     “You sound like the decorators.”  Therese sounded disgruntled.  “Let go…surrender…”  She spoke in a sing-song voice that made her phone mate laugh, which irritated her.  “Alicia!  Please!  You’re probably also going to tell me to pray, aren’t you?”

 

     The nun quieted herself, swallowing a last giggle but loving Therese’s trademark temper.  “Therese dear, I’m not going to preach at you.  Especially about Sabina!  I can only guess at the depth of your wounds, even now…it’s all I could ever do, really.”  She paused to collect her thoughts.  “I can only tell you of my own experience, no?”

 

     “Mm-hmm.”

 

     “So, while I may not feel I’ve ever forgiven the rapist completely, I do very much think the Lord has transformed my heart in such a way that I’m not consumed with bitterness and hatred.  I have a softer heart, Therese.  I can feel compassion for others, be present to the suffering of others.  That’s a victory, child!”

 

     “But what do I _do_ , Alicia?  I have to do _something_ , don’t I?”  Therese sounded very frustrated, and almost hopeless.

 

     Alicia crossed herself again, whispered a prayer for wisdom.  “Okay, love, I’ll say this.  You don’t have to forgive Sabina.  You don’t have to be with her while she’s dying.  You don’t have to love her.”  She paused a moment, letting this sink in.  “But if you feel deep inside that you _want_ to do something, that non-action isn’t an option, I would tell you to think and pray about how you might show her compassion.  But first, give it to yourself, Therese.  First to yourself, then Sabina.  And really, you’ll gift us all.  The world has far too little compassion.”

 

                                           _______________________________________

_She was sitting in Carol’s lap in the big, comfy, blue lounge chair, both of them happily munching on potato chips, when the doorbell rang.  She thought about ignoring it but rose to her feet anyhow, making her way to the front hallway._

_Therese peered through the privacy window, startled and a bit disconcerted to see it was the decorators.  She scratched the top of her head, wondering why they were back.  She wasn’t exactly happy about opening the door, but did anyhow._

_“Hello again, love!” the elfish decorator exclaimed, her eyes bright with joy, her dark hair still glittering as if flung with a handful of stars.  The doctor decorator, ever tall and elegant, and still in her white coat, gave Therese a warm, benevolent smile._

_“Yes, hello Therese!  Might we come in for a moment?”  Her voice was melodic and deep, like songs rising from the ocean at dawn.  Therese stood still, staring at them with her mouth open, her thoughts jumbled._

_“Miss?  Shall we go instead?” the smaller decorator inquired.  Her voice jolted Therese from her hopeless reverie, and she nodded, almost despite herself.  “Yes, sure.  I’m sorry if I’m staring…or being rude… Please,” she said, remembering her manners, “won’t you come in?”_

_The decorators stepped inside, then looked at each other with glee.  “This is so rare, isn’t it?” the tall one asked the elf, who nodded her agreement._

_“Rare?” Therese asked, feeling completely lost.  “What’s rare?”_

_The decorators’ faces filled with such joy they seemed illuminated, and with a light that made Therese catch her breath.  “To be let in a second time, love.  You let us in again!” the little decorator exclaimed jubilantly.  It’s simply scrumptious!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What an incredible group of women you are! The most wonderful!  
> Thank you so much for reading and touching my life as you do.


	11. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Boston Girl

     One of the certainties Carol and Therese could count on is that, regardless of what might be happening in their lives, Rindy’s visits always brought joy, levity, love, and the challenges reserved for parents of precocious six-year old’s.  Carol and Harge had managed to work through many emotional hardships, much to their credit and for the child’s sake, and she now visited the two women two weekends per month, and every Wednesday.

 

     Now, in late September, both Carol and Therese were almost craving their time with Rindy.  They loved her completely…but also clearly needed to escape into the time they all spent together.  It had been just over three weeks since the trip they’d made to visit Sabina at her boarding house, and Therese knew she needed distraction, the complete separation from her thoughts about her mother, brother, and sister.  Carol, as well, was more grateful than usual for the light her little daughter brought to their world.  If completely honest, she would much rather escape into the madcap adventures of parenthood than face the issue of Sabina’s illness and all she had brought with her.

 

     This particular Saturday had dawned cool and crisp with blue skies, sunshine, and clear, fresh air    giving Manhattanites their first taste of autumn.  Both Therese and Carol donned slacks and long-sleeved blouses for the first time since early June.  Rindy, too, was wearing long slacks and a light sweater, especially now.  It was just before dinner, and Therese and the little girl were headed out to walk Benny while Carol cooked.

 

     “Bye, mommy!  We’ll be home before you know it! Don’t forget the brownies please!” Rindy shouted as Therese struggled to calm Benny enough to get his leash on.  The little dog and girl seemed to feed each other’s excitement, and by the time the leash was on Therese was pink cheeked with exertion.

 

     Looking at the three of them, Carol’s heart turned over: Therese, flushed and bright-eyed with her full lips curving enough to call forth her half-moon dimples; Rindy, who now practically bobbed in place with anticipation, her blond curls dancing along; and dear, dear Benny, whose dark eyes looked up imploringly as he was strangled by the child’s grip on his leash.  _This!  This little family.  Thank you!_

“Of course, I won’t forget.   I’m just about to mix them up and pop the pan in the oven!  Now go, sweetheart.  And what’s the rule when mommy’s not there?”  The child rolled her eyes, not unlike a teenager.  “I know, I know.  Listen to Therese.  Therese is the boss!”  Rindy looked at the dark-haired, young woman of whom she spoke.  “C’mon, Therese!  Let’s go!”

 

     As the small crowd slipped out the door, Carol and Therese exchanged amused smiles.  _So, who_ _exactly is running the show here?_

 

     The entourage made its way down the elevator, through the lobby, and out into the afternoon sunshine, Benny now yipping with excitement.  Rindy giggled, and Therese looked left and right to assess the sidewalk situation. 

 

     “Okay, Rindy, off we go.  Benny, good boy!  Time for our walk, right?  No pull; good boy!”  They would make a merry sight to take in if anyone was paying attention.  The problem was, this was Madison Avenue in Manhattan, and passersby were moving at their usual frenetic pace, ready to trample any obstacle, if necessary.    

 

      But Therese was smiling.  It was impossible not to.  Rindy was ebullience herself; the child’s _joie de_ _vivrie_ was infectious.  She hadn’t stopped chattering: “Isn’t it a great day, Therese?  Daddy plays golf with big metal sticks, but I think it sounds boring!  Benny wouldn’t like it, you have to be so quiet!  Do you know about _Stuart Little?_ He’s a mouse that drives a car!  Isn’t that silly?  But I like him, and Miss Perkins keeps reading his book to us.  Do you want to hear about him?  Oh, look at that funny looking dog!  She has a bow in her hair…

 

     Central Park was beckoning them in.  Therese breathed a relieved sigh when they reached the cool, shady paths, feeling ridiculously successful for having entered its environs without losing the skipping Rindy or panting Benny.  The little dog knew the park well, and he paused now, as if considering his options.  Sitting on his hind legs, Benny’s small, black body was highlighted in midnight blue where the sun had broken through the foliage to kiss him, and his one white ear, the left one, was cocked and twitching.  Therese laughed.

 

     “Benny’s funny, isn’t he Therese?” Rindy asked, having noticed Therese’s gaze.  The young woman nodded, happy she was so perceptive and delightful to be with.

 

     “Oh, yes!  I think so, Rindy.  His ear…do you see how it’s twitching?  As if he’s trying to hear where his friends might be playing right now!”  She paused, smiling down at the girl, whose pixie-like face was wreathed with joy.  _God, she looks like Carol!_

 

     “Oh, yes!  Maybe he is!  Can I hold his leash now?  Please?  Please, Therese?”  The young woman laughed again.  “Yes, you may.  But what do you need to remember?”

 

     “Not to run.  And to stay close to you!” the little blond replied proudly.  Therese handed over the leash, smiling down at Benny, who’d watched the entire exchange as if he was at the theater. As soon as the leash was in Rindy’s hands, he began pacing in excited circles while barking his approval.  She giggled.  “Come on, Benny!  Let’s walk!”

 

     They made a happy trio.  Benny scampered from one good smell to another, oblivious to the lush trees above.  Now nearing the end of September, some of the canopy had begun to change its colors, splashes of yellow-gold appearing in the deep green foliage.  The air had a clean, fresh tang and the breeze the slightest chill.  There was a sense of release amongst the New Yorkers strolling about, as if a collective sigh was being expelled.  The heat and humidity had abated, and the outdoor beauty of Central Park was once again beckoning.

 

Therese glanced down, watching Rindy at the helm of the leash, though it was patently obvious Benny was steering the ship.  The child’s golden curls bobbed along, her full, high cheeks pink with excitement and exertion.  “Benny, don’t pull, boy!  _I’m the boss of you and you have to listen!_ ” she piped out in a most robust manner.  The black-haired mutt gazed up at Therese, his dark eyes imploring her to rescue him.  She giggled, stooping to pet his silken head.

 

     “It’s not that bad, Bens.  But Rindy,” she cajoled with a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder, “try not to yank so hard on the leash, okay?  Benny is small, and so is his neck!”

 

     “Okay, Therese.  But even if Benny’s small, he’s still strong!” Rindy shouted, just as the dog gave a full-bodied tug at the leash that caused her body to lunge off the pavement.  She held on fiercely.  “See what I mean!  Benny, where are we…where are you… Whoa!  _Benny!”_ Her young voice trailed away in a high-pitched keen, her head snapping around as she followed the dog’s lead.  It was happening too quickly for Therese to intervene, and she watched in amazement as child followed dog, off the pavement, over the grass, and into a thick stand of bushes.

 

     The young brunette loped after them, concerned and shouting, “Benny!  No, Benny!  _Benny!”_ But it was as if the dog was possessed by the canine lord of the underworld or some such demon.  He yanked on the leash with surprising force, and Rindy seemed more a rag doll than small child.  “Therese!  I can’t…he won’t…” Finally, she let go, overcome.  “Therese, Benny’s gone crazy!” she cried out.  They watched the dog’s small behind with their mouths open as it swayed from side to side.  His head was buried in the bushes now, and then he began to bark.  It was his “This is important!” bark, and Therese’s eyebrows shot up.

 

     Rindy, smart as she was, caught on, too.  _Something is in the bushes._ “What’s he doing?  I think Benny found something!  What’s in there, Benny?”  The child was very excited, and Therese somewhat concerned that the mutt had come face-to-face with a skunk.  She put an arm around Rindy’s shoulder, nudging her backward.  “Rindy, step back with me, okay sweetie?  Benny!” She managed to grab the leash, which had been slithering like a snake in the pungent grass.  “Benjamin!  I mean it,” Therese announced, pulling.  “Get over here!”  Finally, the tension on the leash eased, and Benny slowly emerged from the bushes.

 

     She heard Rindy gasp.  “Therese!  Look!  There’s something in Benny’s mouth!  What’s he got?”  The young woman wasn’t quite sure, but as the dog emerged from the shadows she could see it clearly was something small and gray.  _Oh, good god.  What in the world?_ Before she could stop her, Rindy had lunged toward the little dog.  “Benny!” she squealed.  “What is that, boy?”  Down on her knees, the child was oblivious to the concerns that flooded Therese’s head.  She was supposed to be the adult in charge, after all, and _what in god’s name did that dog have in his mouth?_

 

     “Oh, gosh, Therese!  Oh, look!  Look!  Benny’s found a cat!  It’s a little cat!”  Rindy was like a pint-sized vet, all of a sudden completely at ease in a way that both amazed and left Therese immobilized.  “Benny, good boy!  Oh, Benny, it’s a kitty, boy!”  The dog unceremoniously dropped the animal on the ground, looking at it with doleful eyes and whimpers.  “What do we do, Therese?  It’s a little cat.  What do we do?”

 

     Rindy’s questions were somewhat alarming.  Therese spun her head around, taking in her fellow New Yorkers as if searching for a stray veterinarian, or at least someone more adult than she.  Typically, no one even noticed the goings on by the bushes in the shady alcove. _Now what?_ Rindy was cooing at the cat, which was curled into a wet ball, petting it with a small, gentle hand.  Benny had commenced licking it in a tender fashion that left Therese completely flummoxed.  _What in the world?_

 

     “Therese?  Can I carry the cat home?  We can’t leave him here!  He has no mama!  Right, Therese?  We should take him home, right?”  Still mute, Therese looked around helplessly, immobilized with uncertainty.  What were she and Carol to do with this little cat?  They already had one pet, and Benny’s care was often quite challenging for two working women.  _We can’t have another one!  It’s too much!_ She couldn’t just flounce into the apartment with a child, a dog, and a cat.  Could she?  It would be disrespectful to Carol.  What would Carol say?

 

     The lovely young woman stood still, wavering and teetering, while all the while Rindy cooed and Benny whimpered.  The cat was so small, so thin…she had no idea how old, but it didn’t look newborn. Now it looked at Therese with wary, world-weary eyes, its wet fur tangled and bedraggled.

 

    And that’s when she felt them.  _The decorators._   Materializing out of her dream in some mysterious fashion, they hovered, bringing a sense of peaceful quietude and direction.  The concerns faded, the ‘what ifs’ disappeared.  Therese had the sensation of being painted with sure and loving strokes that were profoundly beautiful and free and goodness itself.  All doubt faded.  She dropped to her knees and put a hand on the quivering little creature.  “There, there, little one,” she murmured.  Eyes closed, the cat lay curled in a ball with its front paws tucked under its chin, as if trying to make itself smaller.  Her heart lurched painfully.  _And where is your mother?_  

 

     “It’s so tiny,” Rindy breathed, her voice hushed with awe.  Benny leaned against Therese’s forearm, still whimpering.  He stopped every few moments to give the cat a lick, then to look at Therese with somber eyes.  She sighed.  “It sure is, isn’t it?  Well, we’ll take him home and get him warm, okay, Rindy?”  The little girl’s smile was relieved and happy.  She leaned back with a clap of her hands.

 

     “Okay!  Let’s go, Therese.  Mommy will be so, so surprised, won’t she?  Come on, Benny.  We’re going home to take care of the kitty!”  Rindy scampered to her feet while Therese pondered the pale pink blouse she wore, one of her favorites. _Oh, well._ She picked up the cat with gentle hands, wrapping it in the tails of the blouse, creating a pouch in which the little animal curled up.  She nodded with satisfaction.  It should work.  With a protective hand underneath the animal, she rose to her feet.

_Let the adventure begin._ “Okay, Rindy.  Stay close by, and hold Benny’s leash with me, please.  Off we go.”  It should be awkward, but it wasn’t.  The beautiful young woman with a cat in her pouch, the lovely child with flying white-gold curls, the gorgeous dog with gleaming, black fur and one snow-white ear.  _And the decorators._ With every step of the way, Therese was certain they were there, too, their gentle hands on her shoulders propelling her along and clearing a path.  Out of Central Park, across Manhattan’s frenetic streets, onward down bustling sidewalks with Rindy chattering and Benny yipping and the damp cat shaking, and Therese flowing in watercolor pastels.

 

     Somehow, they arrived at the apartment door.  Therese fished her key out, and as soon as she opened the door, Rindy burst through, shouting, “Mommy!  Mommy!  Come look what we found!”  Her excitement was uncontrollable, and she bounced in place.  Carol swept out of the kitchen wreathed in the delectable scent of fresh brownies, an inquiring expression on her face

 

     “What, my darling?  My, you’re excited!  What did you bring me?”  She looked at her bright-eyed daughter, then Therese, who stood with a rather guilty look on her face and her right hand clutching an odd-looking bundle to her belly.  The lovely blond raised her eyebrows, her head tilted in question, and watched Therese answer with a crooked grin, all while Rindy bounced and Benny paced.

 

     “Come look, mommy!  Please, come look!”  The child’s cries were almost shouted, and Carol bustled over warily, her slippers swishing out a whispered tune with an upbeat tempo.  As the older woman gazed at the snoozing cat with an almost comical expression, Therese began her explanation.  “So Carol, this is what happened…” 

 

     But Rindy couldn’t contain herself, blurting, “Benny found the cat!  We were walking in the big park, and I had his leash, and all of sudden he ran over to the bushes and came out with the kitty!  Isn’t Benny just so smart?  And our kitty is just so, so small…”  Her voice trailed away in a sigh as the child extended her hand, stroking the little gray ball of fur on the top of its head.

 

     Carol made eye contact with her girlfriend, whose deep green eyes had widened.  She offered her a tentative but understanding smile, knowing full well that Rindy morphed into a veritable force of nature when she had her mind set on a thing.  “ _Our_ kitten?” 

 

     Therese nodded.  “Well, but only until we figure out what the best home for it is.”  Carol was rolling her eyes long before Rindy interjected, “ _We_ have the best home, Therese!  Benny’s the dad!”  The pacing dog stopped and barked at the sound of his name, staking his claim to parental rights, and Carol laughed.

 

     “Ah, I’m being ganged up on!”  But noting Therese’s pale face and the damp, soiled spot on her pink blouse, she put a hand on her daughter’s thin shoulder.  “Rindy, let’s all come in, shall we?  It looks like our cat friend needs to be toweled dry, and Therese needs to change.  And we probably need to give the cat some milk, okay?  Benny, you go lay down, boy.”  She took two steps toward the linen closet but turned back.  Sliding a warm hand along her slender neck, Carol leaned to place a kiss on Therese’s cheek.  “It’s okay.  Let’s not worry about a home right now, hmm?” she whispered.

 

     The young woman gave her a grateful smile, a relieved sigh escaping her lips.  In its makeshift papoose, the little cat slept on, seemingly without concern for its surroundings.  It moved her deeply, touching a place inside that was slowly pulling its face out from underneath the covers, looking out at the world with eyes both unaccustomed yet as old as time.  Therese didn’t know why, but she sensed the decorators again.  Their peaceful, quirky, sagacious presence was seeping into her bones, warming and reassuring her in places long gone chilled.  _Thank you._

 

     “Therese, do you have nipples?” Therese’s head flew around so quickly she was surprised it didn’t take flight.  _What?_   The dumbfounded young woman stared at the beautiful child who was standing in front of her holding the milk bottle.  

She heard the swish of Carol’s slippers, turned to see her glide over with several bath towels.  They made shocked eye contact, emerald green meeting deep blue-gray in mute astonishment.     “Wh--what, Rindy?” 

 

     The child looked at the two women with exasperation.  “Nipple milk!  It’s what babies drink!”  She gestured with the bottle of milk that looked half her size.  Therese and Carol were still staring, first at Rindy, then at one another.  _This is your kid, Carol!_ “So, you have to use your nipples for the milk,” Rindy explained. 

Silence then, and the little girl’s growing impatience.Carol cleared her throat, pushing a wave of blond curls from her flushed face.  “Rindy darling, and who…who told you this?” 

 

     The child rolled her blue eyes.  “ _Mom-my!_ My friend, Tommy!  He has a baby sister now and she drinks nipple milk from his mommy!  So, Therese has to use her nipples,” Rindy explained, her tone implying that Tommy had superior knowledge. 

 

     The young woman found her voice, finally.  “You know what, Rindy?  I think I’d better sit down with the cat, okay?  It’s getting heavy now. Let’s dry him up and then we’ll feed him, okay?”  She side-stepped any talk of nipples, feeling a wave of exhaustion and heading for the sofa.

 

     Carol snapped into action, too.  “Therese is right, baby.  Let mommy have that big bottle—it looks slippery—and we’ll get the cat nice and dry, okay?”  They bustled over to the sofa where the young brunette now sat. 

 

     “Let me help!” Rindy insisted, and child and mother gently dried the little animal while Therese smiled at their bent, blond heads with the cascading, silken curls.  “He’s so small!” the girl crooned, and Carol hummed her response.  Her long, slender fingers moved with utmost gentleness, turning the cat to dry its underside.  This was the last thing she wanted to be doing, but then the unexpected seemed to follow Rindy around like a perpetual tail.  She raised her eyes, offering Therese an expression of warmth and wry defeat.  _Later.  We’ll find it a home later._ Therese understood.

 

     “I think we should name it Francis.”  Rindy spoke with certainty as she stroked velvet fur, gazing at the now fluffy gray animal with adoration.  “’Licia has a picture of Francis, and he has so many animals around him.  Francis just loved animals!”   

 

     Therese closed her eyes, smiling as an image of Francis of Assisi appeared, his face replete with tenderness.  “Well, I think Francis is a perfect name, Rindy, but we have to know whether it’s a boy or girl first, don’t we?” Carol hummed her agreement, watching Benny jump up on the sofa, padding over to gaze down at the cat who had settled in for a nap.  To her complete amazement, the black mutt administered a few licks, grooming it as if it was his own.

 

     “Okay.  Let’s see if he has a penis,” Rindy remarked matter-of-factly, and a startled Therese looked at Carol, far too bewildered to speak.  The older woman looked back in shock, as her daughter announced, “Tommy says he has a penis, and daddy says all boys have a penis between their legs.”  She paused.  “Mommy, you look!”

 

     Carol coughed, shaking her head and sputtering, her eyes watering and nose turning red.  _Not on your life, kid!  Who was this Tommy?  And Harge!  Oh my god, they needed to talk!_ Therese sat silently giggling, flushed with energy now and terribly amused.  She could almost read Carol’s thoughts and could barely keep from an all-out burst of laughter.

 

     Instead, she offered an impish grin accented by deeply cut dimples.  “Well, Carol?”  The murderous look in Carol’s eyes was worth it.  But she smiled at Therese, then Rindy, with admirable composure, her mind firing in rapid sparks.  She cleared her throat again.

 

     “Rindy sweetheart, for now the kitten just needs to be warm and dry and fed, okay?  We can take him to the vet very soon, and he can tell us whether it’s a boy or girl.  And guess what?  Francis is a name for boys _and_ girls!”  Her deep, throaty voice was triumphant in its declaration, and Therese gave her a respectful nod.

 

     “Your mom’s right, Rindy,” she added, “we need to get the cat to the vet very soon.  For now, we can just call it Francis.  It’s the perfect name no matter what!”  The cat stirred, opening its sleepy eyes and looking directly at Therese as if it knew its name all along, as if it had been baptized by this tender kindness and set free by this grace that came as holy mystery and left only fragrant life.

 

     “Francis,” Therese murmured softly, “Francis it is.”

 

                               ______________________________________________

 

     The over-baked brownies were ambrosia delivered by doves, the cold milk the nectar they sipped.  Rindy took a bath in which she almost fell asleep and had long since slipped away into the night’s deep slumber.  Benny was curled in a ball in his bed, seemingly exhausted from the toils of his day.  And Francis was fast asleep after sucking down several saucers of milk, his small tongue fascinating the rapt humans around him. 

 

     Carol and Therese had every reason to be exhausted, but as soon as they crawled in bed an unexpected passion flared to life between them.  Pajamas were torn off in haste because it was _skin_ they craved— _soft, silky, heated skin_ , and beaded perspiration and dark, moist passageways.  Shivers and gasps and drawn out moans, and climbing and bucking and _oh, my darling, you do have nipples!_ Fingers filling spaces where words simply would not suffice, and that sweet, earthy scent and ambrosia here, too.  An inexorably rising tide, a flaming star, a _God, yes!_ Love’s labored breathing and the drugged lassitude of its aftermath.

Now, Carol rained kisses upon Therese’s face, breathing her in deeply.  “Ah, darling, that was…”  More kisses, with Therese’s legs still wrapped tightly around her waist.  The younger woman shook her head, bringing a finger up to hush the stunning blond on top of her.  “Shh.  Not yet.” They kissed, tongues dancing and tasting once again.  Therese sighed into her mouth and Carol absorbed her breath as her own. 

 

     After a quiet interlude, the younger woman unclasped her legs, and Carol moved so they could lay beside one another, still stroking, still touching.  It was another long quiet before Therese whispered, “You were a good sport today.  I know you don’t want a cat.”  She felt the other woman’s smile in the inky darkness.  “And neither do you, right?”

 

     Therese shook her head.  “It’s adorable…beautiful…amazing…but no, I don’t want a cat.  Rindy and Benny were just so—”

 

     This time, it was Carol who silenced Therese, a warm finger moving gently on her lips.  “It would have been impossible to leave it, darling, not to mention cruel.  Rindy’s exuberance and your tender heart…”  She sighed, stroking her cheek now.  “We’ll get it to a vet and figure out what to do next.”

 

     Therese leaned to kiss her again, feeling her eyelids growing heavy as the day—and night—caught up with her.  “Carol?”

 

     “Yes, darling?”  Carol’s voice was growing thick as sleep drew near. 

 

     “Do you think life ever goes according to plan?” The drowsy question came with a long, drawn out yawn, and Carol responded in kind.  Then she sighed.  “Only sometimes, darling.”  Another yawn, Therese could hear her fading into sleep.   “But maybe life has the better plans…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who are still with me, supporting these characters and this author on the journey.  
> Thanks to all who are kind to animals, the earth, and to all who are less fortunate than you are. You are adding goodness to a world desperately in need.  
> With peace to all...


	12. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be patient toward all that is  
> unsolved in your heart  
> and try to love the questions themselves.  
> Do not now seek the answers  
> which cannot be given you  
> because you would not  
> be able to live them.  
> And the point is  
> to live everything.  
> Live the questions.
> 
> Rilke

 

 

     The doorbell rang just as Carol lifted the pan out of the oven.  She set it on the stovetop, casting a critical eye at the roast.  The beef presented itself, perfect and quite beautiful, she thought.  Deep brown and crusted from its seer, it was surrounded by chunks of potato, carrot spears, sliced celery and onion, all glistening in the meat’s juices.  _The king and his court._   She smiled, not caring if it was smug, and went to answer the door, her slippers singing a happy tune on the hardwood floor.

 

     She opened the door and found three beloved faces gazing at her: Sr. Alicia and her old friend, Elaine Hartsell, and last, but not least, Sparky.  _Sparky!_ The huge Newfoundland stared up at her, slack-jawed in that way that made him smile, and her heart filled with joy that found its echo in the smile that filled her face.

 

     “Well, _Hi!_    Alicia, Elaine…” She nodded, distracted by the thump of the dog’s large tail on the hallway carpet.  “…and of course, _you,_ Sparky!   Hi, big boy!  Oh,” she clapped her hands uncharacteristically, her eyes filling with tears that betrayed the stress she’d been under, “I’m so glad you’re here!  Come in!  Come in!”  Sparky bolted through the door with a thundering baritone bark, the women exchanged warm, excited greetings and hugs, and Carol shouted, “Therese?  Darling?  They’re here!”

 

     The young brunette came rushing from the bedroom, running her fingers through still damp hair.  “Hi, Alicia!  Hello, Elaine!”  She threw her arms around the Franciscan nun, then her pretty, silver-haired friend.  “Therese, dear heart!  Oh, it’s so good to see you!” Alicia replied in spirited fashion as she returned the hug.  By this time, Benny had dashed into the fray, his higher pitched bark celebrating the arrival of the Newfie who had his front shoulders dropped in engagement.

 

     “Woof!  Woof!”  “Ruff!  Ruff!”  The women’s attempts to get beyond their hellos were fruitless as the canine cacophony continued.  Finally, Elaine grabbed Sparky’s collar.  “Okay, Sparky!  Enough, enough!  Everyone knows you’re here now, buddy.”  The good-natured woman laughed when the huge black dog stopped, looked at her with bright, mischievous eyes, then pawed at the floor several times before dropping as if he’d been shot, rolling to his back and exposing his belly.

 

      When Benny immediately jumped on him, all the women laughed, and Carol observed, “Well, we could watch these two all night, couldn’t we?  Or, you could let us take your wraps and come in for a drink?”

 

     Alicia offered a dazzling smile, her full cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling.  “Carol, dear.  I’d love to sit down with an ice-cold water to start, if you don’t mind?”  Therese kissed her cheek and gave the old nun’s forearm a squeeze.  “You can have whatever you want, Alicia!  Come in and sit, I’ll get your water.”

 

     “One for me, too, Therese,” Elaine added pleasantly.  “What’s cooking, Carol?  It smells wonderful in here!”  From the kitchen, the tall blond replied, “Beef pot roast, with green beans and fresh bread.”  Now, she glided into the room with a whiskey in each hand, followed by Therese with their guests’ waters.  As they seated themselves, she added, “We’ll just let it sit for a few minutes to let the juices settle.  Then we’ll have a lovely meal, I hope.” 

 

     Carol had no sooner stopped speaking when a small, gray blur shot out from behind the sofa, scampering across the coffee table and out of the room before Alicia and Elaine could register that they’d seen anything.  The two guests looked at each other in surprise, then at Therese and Carol in question.  “What, pray tell, was that?” Alicia asked.

 

     Therese rolled her eyes, then offered a sheepish grin.  “ _That_ was Francis!” she answered.  Her face shone with pleasure despite the misgivings in her tone.  “Our boarding cat!”  Down on the rug, Sparky’s ears had perked up.  The massive, black dog, so like a bear, emitted a low growl, one that made Carol think of tectonic plates shifting underneath the ocean.  “Oh-oh,” she commented lightly as the Newfie picked his head up and growled again.

 

     “Oh, Lord.”  Elaine sat forward in her seat and gave Sparky her evil eye.  “Sparky, don’t even think about it.  You’re not at home with a big yard, young man.”  The dog gave a pathetic sounding groan, then settled back down on the rug with Benny tucked up against his flanks, both dogs with dark eyes ever alert.

 

     Carol and Therese watched this interaction in silence, and then the older woman remarked, “Elaine, that was impressive.  I’m going to send Rindy for a weekend, so you can train her to listen like that.”

 

     She responded with a chuckle, and before she could speak, Alicia waved an airy hand.  “We’ll get to Rindy soon enough!  Please tell us first how you came to have a cat.  And why a ‘boarding cat?’”  Carol looked at her watch quickly, getting to her feet.  “Alicia, let us tell you all about Francis over dinner.  Come, you and Elaine choose seats at the table, and Therese and I will bring our meal out.”

 

     As the women happily “plowed in,” as Alicia so humorously described, the tale of Therese’s Central Park adventure came out, bit by delicious bit.  All the while, the dinner guests peppered her with questions.  Laughter, amazement, and amusement flowed easily amongst them, and both Carol and Therese found themselves soothed and uplifted at the story’s retelling.

 

     Elaine bit into a golden, flaky roll, sighing happily as she chewed.  When her mouth was empty once again, she sat back and asked, “And now, tell us why Francis seems to be only a temporary addition to your zoo?  Why is he boarding and not staying?  Does Benny not take to him?”

 

     Therese swallowed a sip of red wine.  “Oh, no…they seem to be getting along quite well, at least while we’re around.”  She paused, her lovely head tilted to the side as if she was considering her comment for the first time.  “Though I suppose all hell could be breaking loose when we’re at work!”  She seemed to shiver at the thought, her slender shoulders shaking.  “But when we’re here it’s strangely peaceful.  Benny seems to dote on Francis, if you can believe it.  He grooms him.”

 

     Carol forked another piece of the dark, tender beef.  “Truly,” she agreed, “he does!  Licks him all over like he’s his mama.”  Sr. Alicia looked across the table at her hostesses, a mischievous look in her bright, blue eyes.  “It’s because they pray together, you know.  _‘Lord, make me an instrument of your peace_ …’”  She sat back with a loud burst of her trademark laughter, free and full of joy.  “ _Where there are cats, let_ _me be kind…”_ More laughter, and this time, the three other women joined in.

 

     “Maybe they _do_ pray together, Alicia! Because I’ve never seen Benny be anything but wonderful with Francis, and he can be a pistol at times.”  She took another sip of wine, her lovely face dancing with light and shadow in the flickering candlelight from the table.  “It’s just that, neither of us want a cat right now.  We’re both working long hours, and there’s Rindy when she visits, and Benny who’s more than enough…”  She shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head slowly.  “And all this stuff with my family now…”  Her voice had grown hushed, and she put her fork down.

 

     Carol reached a hand over, finding Therese’s forearm and giving it a reassuring squeeze.  It was quiet for a moment or two, a pregnant pause that still felt natural amongst the dear friends.  The atmosphere gradually changed, growing warmer and more alive, as if the weight of Therese’s unspoken pain was itself a wounded loved one and the three women highly trained nurses ready to minister with healing hands.

 

     “Darling?”  Carol’s deep voice was gentle, her fingertips stroking her girlfriend’s bare arm lightly.  Therese had gone quiet, and the remnants of the delicious roast and seasoned vegetables were growing cold on all plates except Alicia’s.  The old nun loved to eat when emotions ran high, and she chewed a mouthwatering piece of potato now, never removing her eyes from Therese.

 

     Therese turned her head, her wisp of a smile making Carol ache inside.  “I’m sorry.  My thoughts just…” Her voice faded as quickly as the smile.

 

     Alicia swallowed her mouthful quickly.  “Therese dear, it doesn’t take a swami to see that the opportunity to talk a bit might be good for you.”  She looked around at the little support group gathered around the table with a whispered prayer of thanks.

 

     “We’re here, sweetheart.  It might do us _both_ good.”  Carol clutched at Therese’s forearm again, almost as if hanging on for dear life.

 

     “I’m in, Therese,” Elaine added, her gentle expression composed of strength and memories.

 

     The young brunette smiled, deeply touched.  Her hand had been stroking Sparky’s enormous head after the Newfie had come to lay it in her lap, and now she bent to kiss the spot she loved most, right between his soulful, black eyes where the fur felt like velvet.  “Sparky, what a good, good boy you are,” she murmured, “always such a good friend.”  She took a breath, then looked at her dinner companions.  “You’re right, of course.  I need _something…_ ”

 

     Carol pushed a wave of blond curls from her face with purpose.  “How about if I put on coffee?  And maybe we can have dessert over on the sofa?  How does that sound?”

 

     Alicia’s cherubic face broke into a smile both innocent and devious.  “Oh, Carol, a woman after my own heart!  I think much better with food in my mouth, as you know by now.  And what are we having, might I ask?”  Her eyebrows shot up in question, and the little crowd laughed along with the delightful old nun, loving her self-deprecating honesty.

 

     Carol rose with typical grace, coming around the table to kiss the top of Alicia’s gray curls.  “Dear Alicia, one of your favorites, I think—carrot cake with cream cheese icing!”  The nun rolled her eyes in ecstasy, humming with anticipation, reaching up to kiss Carol’s cheek.  “Oh, my dear, you will certainly go to heaven!” 

 

     More chuckles, and Therese rose to clear plates and help Carol.  “Please, go get comfortable.  We’ll be right there.”  Alicia and Elaine did as asked, with Sparky and Benny taking advantage of the moment, too, plopping their respective black heads down in laps, shamelessly seeking to be petted.

 

     Settled in with murmurs of appreciation for the delectable-looking cake, all attention was still with Therese.  The young woman sat shimmering like a full moon held securely in the velvet arms of a midnight sky, the substance of which was comprised of the warm, beating hearts of her friends.  Elaine was the first to speak, her pleasant voice gentle, inviting.

 

     “Therese, Alicia’s been filling me in, you know…with your consent, of course.  So, I’m aware of all that’s transpired, and Sabina coming back into your life.  It must have been a terrible shock!  Maybe it still is?”

 

     The brunette cleared her throat, holding her coffee cup in her lap with tense fingers.  “Oh, I suppose…it doesn’t seem real on any given day.  And then it is.  _She_ is.”  She paused, looking down at the dogs with unseeing eyes.  “I want to just…wipe her off the map.  And then, I don’t.  I hurt for her…she’s so ill…and alone in that rickety boarding house…”

 

     Alicia felt goosebumps on her forearms.  _The Spirit is alive._ “That’s the beginnings of compassion, dear,” she interjected, her gratitude rising on the wings of a prayer.  “I hear it.  That place of tender caring in your heart, despite it all…”

 

     Therese smiled wanly, and Carol released a painful breath.  “It’s almost bizarre, how things can change so fast.”  Carol’s tone was almost nostalgic, as if she was reaching for a time long passed and much missed.  “I’m all in, but sometimes so angry at Sabina I could scream.”

 

     Elaine nodded with reassurance, swallowing a sip of creamy coffee.  “Of course, Carol.  How could you not be?  She’s intruded in the life you two have built with such dedication.”  Her voice had grown heavy with remembrance, her thoughts turning over the bitter pill that could still sting her tongue.  “It’s like Maggie’s cancer,” she added bluntly, “coming out of nowhere and taking our life away…”  But her smile was brave and filled with overcoming.

 

     Therese watched as Francis darted into the room again.  The small kitten eyed the two dogs warily, especially Sparky.  The Newfie remained peacefully asleep, though, and Francis bravely crept up on Benny, who looked at the gray furball with seemingly fatherly eyes.  All the women watched now as Francis stopped next to the little black mutt, tapping his black nose with one white-tipped paw.  He ducked his head then, and Benny dutifully commenced to bathe the tiny cat’s face with his tongue, much to the amazement of the guests in the room.

 

     “I do believe Benny is a canine saint, a man after St. Francis’s own heart,” Alicia breathed, deeply grateful to be an observer of this most unexpected spectacle.  The nun beamed.  “He makes me proud to be a Franciscan!”  She was most sincere, and the obvious purity of her devotion was somehow deeply moving, a blanket of untouched snow across a windswept field.

 

     Once again, Therese felt the decorators nearby.  She had no idea why.  Still, a pocket of untapped wisdom rose up, and she heard its voice quite clearly.  _Pay attention here,_ she heard the dream dwellers whisper.  And she did, her gaze shifting from Benny and Francis to Alicia, whose blue eyes held a child-like joy Therese couldn’t begin to understand.  An awareness came to her.  _The animals are my_ _teachers, too, just like her._

 

     “They’re little gurus, aren’t they?”  Alicia’s smiling question indicated she felt the same.  She took another forkful of the carrot cake, practically moaning with pleasure.  Turning from the pets, she looked at Carol.  “This cake is outstanding, Carol!  Oh my, I could eat the whole darn thing, and I will if you don’t keep it away from me!”  After another bite, she turned her gaze to Therese.

 

     “Now then, Therese dear, can you talk about Sabina at all?  Do you want to?”  The young woman shrugged, not sure of her answer.  Swallowing her bite of cake, she said as much.  “I can _talk_ about her, Alicia.  I’m not sure it helps me move from this stuck place, though.”

 

     “Well, what are you thinking at this moment?” Elaine asked.  Her eyes reflected a depth of interest that touched Therese deeply.

 

     “Oh…that I don’t want Sabina in that boarding house all alone, and I also don’t want to take care of her.”  She was honest to a fault.  The friends surrounding her expected and welcomed this.  Another bite of cake.  A sigh.  “I don’t wish her ill, but it hurts to speak about her, too.”

 

     Carol closed her eyes, focusing on the blend of bitter coffee and sweet icing on her tongue.  _Anything_ _but Sabina._ But then she chastised herself.  _She’s been there for me all along…with Harge…with Rindy._ It was just all so _hard._   Opening her eyes, she saw Alicia watching her closely, a perceptive look on her face, as if she was following along with Carol’s thoughts in a most disarming manner.  The Franciscan sister nodded, and Carol smiled.  She felt understood and accepted.

 

     “Sweetheart,” she ventured, “we’re all with you in this, whatever you choose…”  Carol put her empty plate on the coffee table and scooted closer to Therese on the sofa, looked into those gorgeous emerald eyes, now dark with pain and confusion.  Reached out a hand to touch and comfort. 

 

     Alicia cleared her throat, looking at her hands which sat placidly in her ample lap.  “Therese, darling, a thought is coming to me.  An idea, really…May I run it by you?”  The emerald eyes brightened a bit, hope flickering in their depths.  The young woman offered her mentor and mother figure a wry smile, one tinged with her trademark smirk.  “Alicia, really?  You have to ask?”

 

     The old woman cleared her throat again.  “We have an infirmary at Pace de Christo, dear one.  We care for our own sisters who are sick and aged, some who are dying.  They go to the hospital when needed, of course,” she added quickly, “but they age and die in our own care.”  Carol could see where this was going, and hope beat against her breast with the tiniest of hammers.

 

     “We take in the homeless at times, charity cases, people who would have nowhere else to go, no one to care for them.”  She stopped, her blue eyes piercing now, as all business as Alicia got.  “I’m certainly willing to reach out to Sabina through our sisters in the infirmary…let them do their thing, as it were.”  She let her words hang in the air, not attempting to sway Therese in one way or the other.

 

     The young woman took a deep breath as Alicia, Carol, and Elaine watched the play of emotions across her unlined face as if they were in a movie theater and Therese the main character.  It was so quiet, the steady breathing of the sleeping dogs could be heard, a soothing and appreciated underscore. 

 

     Therese turned Alicia’s offer around in her mind, this way and that, but it was only when it reached her heart that things became clear.  She felt the decorators again, hovering above her shoulders, almost felt their hands as pulsating points of warmth, touched a hand there unconsciously, seeking their strange assurances.  

 

     But truly, she knew her answer even without the decorators.  Perhaps even without Carol, Alicia, and Elaine and what they each might do or think.  She _knew,_ and no matter what might come next, she felt peace fill her heart for the first time in weeks.

Looking around at the three women, reaching for Carol’s hand because she wanted and needed a _felt_ _sense_ of her lover’s nearness, she spoke directly and without hesitation.  “Yes, Alicia.  I think that’s exactly what needs to be done.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear companions! Sending this off to you with much gratitude for your presence, as always.  
> And wishing you all a wonderful week. May you be touched by grace and peace.


	13. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us therefore come boldly  
> to the throne of grace,  
> that we may obtain mercy  
> and find grace to help  
> in time of need.  
> Hebrews 4:16
> 
> There is nothing on this earth  
> more to be prized  
> than true friendship.  
> Thomas Aquinas

 

 

     Sr. Alicia sat on the stone bench in her favorite place in the gardens.  The grounds of Pace de Christo were singing a song of color, and she breathed in the view with unencumbered joy.  October was closing in and the trees were changing their clothes; deep greens were giving way to yellow, orange, red, and gold.  The air carried a scent of harvest, earthy and ripened and so very wise and the old nun couldn’t help but smile.  With the warm sun bathing her head and shoulders, it was more than enough.  _I’ve been kissed!_

She laughed out loud, which wasn’t unusual for the plump, lively nun, even and maybe especially when she was alone.

 

     “Ahh, Lord.  You know me well. _Your kisses matter the most!”_ She chattered to the wind, laughing again.  Sitting back, adjusting the angle of her troublesome hip on the chilled bench, she gazed at nothing in particular, enjoying it all.

 

     “I’ll count on the fact that you know Mary Margaretta is calling Sabina today!  And that you’ll be present through it all.”  Her voice was firm, and then she sighed, taking and releasing a deep breath.  _“Come boldy to the throne of grace, that you may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need._   And here I am, Lord!  Boldly asking you to be there, in the hearts of Mary and Sabina and Therese and Carol!  In my heart!  _Let your will be done!_   I pray that you guide us all…that you place your seal upon our hearts…make us yours and hold us in tender and loving hands.  _Lord…Lord.  Thank you!”_

 

     From a short distance away, Sr. Mary Margaretta approached.  She watched Alicia closely, almost reverently.  The younger sister knew the old nun was praying, as she often did out in the gardens.  It was the stuff of many wry and fond observations by the congregation of sisters at Pace de Christo. _Where’s_ _Alicia?_   They knew by now to look through the windows, out into the beautiful gardens.  There, Alicia was often seen, lost in her time of prayer.  Gesturing with her substantial arms, lips moving as she spoke, often aloud to the birds, bugs, trees, and most certainly, to her Lord.  Her face managed to look intense and yet serene, and Mary Margaretta, for one, envied Alicia’s deep spiritual connection and faith.

 

     Now, the younger sister crept slowly toward her, trying to gauge her timing.  The older nun was quiet, still, serene, and Mary Margaretta assumed it was as good a time as any to approach.   She did so, her brown, summer moccasins swooshing softly upon the pavement.

 

     “Sr. Alicia?”  Mary spoke in a soft and hesitant voice, fearing interruption.  But there was no need to fret.  Alicia turned to acknowledge the red-headed nun with a gentle smile.  Her eyes shone with strength, with peace and assurance and comfort.  “Mary!  Hello, dear one!  Come to me!  I’ve been waiting for you.”

 

     When she was seated, Mary Margaretta commented, “I thought you might want to know how the call went.”

 

     The other woman made a sound that left no doubt as to its meaning.  “If you don’t tell me, I shall go crazy on this bench and Mother Superior will blame you!”

 

     The beautiful young nun laughed, her cheeks flushed with fond amusement, as if she was considering the antics of a lovable child.  “Alicia, you are one in a million, aren’t you?”  Her green eyes twinkled, and she realized that sitting here with Alicia was quite like coming unexpectedly upon a stand of pussy willows in a meadow.  Regal, soft, inviting, and immeasurably mysterious.  Drawn in, and unable to look away.  She released a breath before she spoke.

 

     “Well, Sabina was…quite closed off.  At least at first.  I didn’t think she would even talk with me.  But then…”  She paused, making eye contact with Alicia.  “I stopped making it about me, Alicia.  Do you know what I mean?  I surrendered the whole thing to God, invited the Spirit to lead me.”

 

     “And?” Alicia asked, her heart warming, her expression all the understanding the younger woman needed.

 

     Sr. Mary Margarette smiled.  Her lovely face was transformed, made even more beautiful, breathtaking, even.  “And she eventually agreed to allow Sr. Catherine and I to drive to Newark and get her.”  She clapped in excitement.  “Isn’t that simply wonderful? I think the Holy Spirit _must_ have been at work, Alicia!  Sabina went from being locked shut to opened just enough!  It was so…hopeful!  Yes!  It was a hopeful thing, and…”  She stopped then, perplexed.  Looking at Alicia, she observed, “I don’t think that had much to do with me at all.”  Her voice was hushed, as if reading a book and learning a great, unfathomable truth for the first time.  Mary offered a tender smile.  “That was all the work of the Spirit.”

 

     Alicia’s eyes filled with tears, the deep blue irises shining with liquid light.  She reached across her lap, taking hold of the younger nun’s hand.  “Let’s pray, then, Mary.  Let’s say thank you!”

                                         “Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful.

                                           Kindle in us the fire of your love.

_Kindle in us the fire of your love!”_

_______________________________________________

 

     In the middle of the night, Carol felt a tickle on her cheek.  Very soft, it barely penetrated her unconscious state.  Nonetheless, she sleep-swiped at her face, mumbling incoherently.    Again, the softness of that tickle on her face, cool and with more pressure.  And again, her hand brushing her cheek, the long, slender, red-nailed fingers still somehow elegant in their nocturnal trance.

 

     Francis stood mere inches away from the beautiful blond woman.  Obviously, he was not getting the response he needed.  The kitten was just learning his best tactics, which was unfortunate for the sleeping Carol.  Now, the gray furball reached a paw toward her cheek, but this time when it made contact, his front claws were extended ever so slightly. 

 

     _Yes!_ Francis watched Carol fidget restlessly.  _Now, we’re getting somewhere!_ He watched her eyes open, looking like a loud noise in the dark of night.  “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” she whispered stormily.  Nonplussed, the kitten gazed Carol as if he was an Egyptian ruler and she, his devoted subject.  Serene, yet commanding.

 

     “Francis!” she said.  The kitten’s face was mere inches from her own, and she thought she might be cross-eyed.  “Do you know what time it is?  Neither do I, but it’s not daylight!  What the hell do you want?”  But Francis just stared at her, a pint-sized sphinx with an air of mystery.  “Oh, my god, cat.  You need to give me a break!”

 

     Carol’s very agitation called attention to the kitten’s regal stillness.  In the dim moonlight that spilled in through the edges of the blinds, she finally seemed to fully notice his presence.  She exhaled, and it calmed her.  Reaching out a hand, Carol scratched Francis under the chin.  He held his gaze, looking at her with intense, feline eyes that were almost spooky.

 

     “I don’t know what you want, Francis, but I’m not your Cleopatra.”  More staring, though now the little cat tilted his head.  Carol stared back, fully awake now.  “You’re trying to tell me something, aren’t you?”  She mirrored the tilt of his head, quietly considering.

 

     Later, she would tell Therese it was a miracle of human-animal interaction.  Or maybe just a miracle.  Or maybe the Holy Spirit, as Alicia was sure to say.  _And why me?  I don’t even like cats!_ Still, the message was clearly spoken and received.  An extraordinary moment of telepathy between the fluffy, soft, gray kitten and the strikingly beautiful woman.

 

     Her mouth opened, a faint breath escaping.  And then, she understood what Francis was saying, and her throat tightened with emotion.  She scratched his chin again, moved and mystified.

 

     “It’s Sabina, isn’t it?  You came to go live with Sabina, didn’t you?”

 

                                        _____________________________________________

 

     Abby guffawed, then looked around to make sure she hadn’t disturbed a customer.  Careful to speak quietly, she said, “You can’t mail a damn cat, Carol!  Are you insane?”

 

     Her friend inhaled a huge amount of smoke from the cigarette, hoping the nicotine would blast every cell in her body into sensibility.  She exhaled so forcefully, she almost coughed, her eyes smarting in the blue-gray haze.  “Well, Abby,” she whispered, “there’s got to be _some_ way to get a kitten to Newark!  How about a courier service?”

 

     Again, Abby gave a robust laugh, shaking her head and causing her auburn curls to undulate across her brow.  _“Cat Couriers of Manhattan!_ Would you get serious?  How are you really going to get the damn cat there?”

 

     The tall, lovely blond shook her head in frustration.  “I don’t know, Abigail!  If I did, Francis would already be there!   But I don’t want to go, and neither does Therese.”  She huffed, angry once again at Sabina for no particular reason, except it was a comfortable place to land in any given moment.  And then she immediately felt contrite, because the woman was certainly dying, and she knew Francis was supposed to be with her.

 

     Abby watched the play of emotions across her dear friend’s classic features, the anger, the sadness, the many layers of complicated loss.  As always, the woman got to her, because Abby loved Carol deeply and always would.  She paused for only a few moments while the words percolated and rose to her full lips.

 

     “I’m going to take him, Carol,” she noted with certainty.  “I’ll take him, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Francis's antics in this chapter are based on goings on under my very own roof. Cats! They rule the world, I think.
> 
> Love to you all, and much gratitude.


	14. 14

  

     “Carol?”  She spoke softly, as if not to disturb the lullaby, the swish of the leaves above, the kiss of the soft breeze.  “Are you awake?”

 

     “Mm-hm.  Yes, darling.”  The tall, slender blond reached for her girlfriend’s hand, covering it where it lay.  “Tell me.”

 

     A memory came rushing back.  _Ask me…things._   Therese heard Carol’s spoken plea once again, suspended in the halls of remembrance, a moment that seemed ages ago now.  She hugged her fingers with her own.  “Do you…do you think I’m crazy or…stupid?  To care at all about what happens to her?”

 

     They both knew she was talking about Sabina.  Therese was often swimming in thought stew these days, and her mother compromised most of the ingredients.  The older woman shook her head, considering her reply.  “No, I don’t think you’re stupid, Therese.”  She paused, listening to the birds singing above, their hymn to October’s splendor.  The leaves danced on the branches in robes of gold.  It was piercingly beautiful. 

 

     “Honestly, most of the time I don’t know what to think.  But the truth is, I’m not walking in your shoes, darling.  Next to them, but not in them.  All I can do is walk beside you.”  The young brunette sat up now, taking a deep breath and gazing down at Carol, seeking the depths of her blue-gray eyes.

 

     “I still want to slam the door on her.  _So hard_.”  Therese gritted her teeth, a muscle flexing in her jaw.  “But she’s also the person who gave me life, Carol.”  She looked at her hands, her fingers wound around each other as if they might up and fly away if not tied down.  Her thin shoulders rose, then fell.  “Somehow I just can’t walk away.”

 

     The lovely blond offered a smile of consolation.  “I know, sweetheart.”  She sat up, too, shifting on the soft, red blanket until she faced her companion.  Carol began to speak, then stopped as she considered her words again.  “You do know there’s no right or wrong in this, right?  There’s just you at this point in your life, making the best choice you feel you can.”

 

     The younger woman’s eyes were unfathomable.  She nodded.  “I think I know that.  But…Carol?  What would you do if you were me?”  Before she even finished speaking, Therese saw Carol’s silken hair begin to wave as the woman shook her head.  “No,” the husky voice replied.  “It doesn’t matter what I’d do, Therese.  We’re two completely different people, with different wounds and desires.”  Glad for the privacy afforded by this shaded spot along the bend of the river, Carol reached out to cup her cheek.  “I just need you to know I’m going to support you, regardless.”

 

     Turning her face into the soft coolness, Therese placed a kiss on her lover’s palm.  Then she exhaled, a breath accompanied by a groan of sorts.  “I wish I had a harder heart!  I wish I could just be mean and spiteful and leave it at that!”

 

     Carol laughed in amusement.  “Darling, you’ve been around Alicia far too long for that.  I think she loved all the spite out of you a long time ago!”  She leaned over, kissing the young brunette’s flushed cheek.  “Besides, I wouldn’t want to be with you if you were mean and spiteful.  I wouldn’t want Rindy around you, either.”  A chill shot through her at the truly horrible thought.

 

     “Tough, then,” Therese proposed.  “I wish I could be tough and show no mercy.”

 

     The older woman’s chuckle was nothing if not a scoff.  “Oh, sweetheart,” she replied, her voice still pregnant with laughter.  “I can’t even imagine that!  Really, Therese?  _Show no mercy?”_ She stopped, struck by the way the dappled sunlight danced across her companion’s flawless face.  It was a story all its own if she cared to look…light and shadow, shadow and light.  _So apropos._

 

     “Carol?”  Therese soft question brought her back, and the blond drew her eyes from the river with a sigh.  “I was just thinking of Harge.  That horrible meeting with the attorney.  The detective, the vindictiveness in Harge’s behavior.”  She sighed again, her legs moving restlessly in the throes of the painful memories.  When she made eye contact again, her blue-gray eyes had a sheen to them.  They looked like gemstones, Therese decided.  Bright, rich, deep.

 

     “That day in the lawyer’s office…I thought the pain would split me in two.  And a part of me wanted to tear Harge apart, limb by limb.”  She shook her head at the memory, looked away, to the river a short distance away.  It flowed onward, bubbling over rock and branch as if it hadn’t a care in the world.

 

     “So, why didn’t you?”  The question was somehow jarring, here in this shady, green alcove with the water giggling by.  Carol took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling under the light blue sweater she wore.

 

     “Therese…that _rage_ —” She shook her head, her breath shallow with memory.  “It was eating me alive!  Maybe it made me feel powerful, but after a while…it just took too much energy from me.”  Another breath, and then Carol gave Therese a vague, yet ironic smile.  “And truly…if Harge and I had kept socking each other in the eye, wouldn’t both of us end up blind?  What would Rindy do with two blind parents?”

 

     She paused, looked back at the river, breathing in the fresh tang of it, marveling once again that she even _liked_ the outdoors. _Who knew?_ For some inexplicable reason, she wanted to laugh.  _We’re not_ _ugly people, Harge._ And now the river was exhilarating, its freedom and flow, and when she looked back at Therese, her eyes were like sapphires lit aflame.

 

     She reached for the younger woman’s hand, holding it firmly, pressing a promise into her palm.  “I think you should do whatever is truest to your heart, honey.  Then I think it will all be okay.”

 

                            __________________________________________________

 

     “Francis is a hoot, Carol!  At first, he ran all over the dashboard, the seat, my lap, back to the dashboard… It was like his own little _Le Mans!”_ Abby laughed, her amber eyes aglow with warmth and laughter.  “Thank heavens we made it to Newark without me crashing.” 

 

     Carol picked her head up, having written the last sale in the ledger to her satisfaction.  She sized up her friend, who she thought looked stunning in the cream sweater dress she was wearing today.  She smiled with tenderness.  “Abigail, you are a good woman.  Thank you again, from both Therese and I.”  She paused, hesitating, and her unspoken question hovered like a threatening cloud in the store.  Working up her courage, Carol asked, “And Sabina?  Did she like him?  Was she… Well, how did she seem?”

 

     Abby paused in the midst of her task, instinctively knowing she should.  Her eyes narrowed.  “I don’t know what I was expecting, but she certainly wasn’t Attila the Hun.”  She exhaled, slightly shaken by the image in her mind’s eye.  “She looked very ill, Carol.  Very thin and rather ashen, wobbly on her feet.  But she lit up when she saw Francis!  He was scurrying around, all excited…but then he came to her…”  Her voice faded.

 

     “He jumped right up in her arms.  It was…very sweet to see.  Moving, even.  And you know me…I don’t do sweet and moving on a regular basis.  And I don’t really take to cats!  And I was ready to hate Sabina but…”  She paused, toying with the pack of cigarettes on the counter, then looked at her blond friend.  “She just looked pathetic.”

 

     Carol nodded, releasing a heavy sigh.  “Yes.  I know, Abby.”  Distracted now, and stressed, she held her hand out, pointing wordlessly toward the cigarettes.  Her friend handed her one, which Carol wasted no time lighting.  Abby did the same, and the two friends each took satisfying puffs, settling back into the nicotine-induced relaxation.  Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.  The silence was comfortable, and Carol closed her eyes after she blew a lungful of silver blue smoke toward the ceiling.    “I was doing so good cutting back on these things,” she remarked, eyes still closed.  She shook her head, her blond curls waltzing across her cheek. 

 

     Abby chuckled.  “Well, I don’t even try!  It’s probably not the best thing to hang around me.”

 

     The beautiful blond opened her eyes, smiling fondly at her best friend.  “Are you kidding?  You’ve been my rock through this.  A paragon of virtue as a friend, even if we smoke too much.”

 

     “Well, I’m not going anywhere, doll.”  Abby blew another cloud of smoke into the air, watching its lazy flight path.  Carol saw worry flicker in her eyes.  “You know me, though.  I don’t know that I do sickness all that well… I’ll do all I can for you and Therese, but… _Christ!_ I can deliver cats and wash your underwear, but the rest of this…”  She shook her head with trepidation, waving her cigarette like a flag of surrender.

Carol felt a rush of warm love come over her, and wished they weren’t out on the showroom floor, because she would dearly love to hug her dear friend, to kiss her cheek.  Instead, she smiled and blew her a kiss.  “You’re a gem, Abby.  And don’t worry.  Therese and I don’t do sickness that well, either.”  She took a deep, shuddering breath.  “But I have a feeling we’re going to get some practice.”

 

                                               __________________________________________

 

     “As far as I know, Sabina is settling in just fine, dear heart.  And Francis has just acquired an entire convent full of companions.  He’s irresistible! I got a first-hand report from Sr. Catherine.  She’s a trained nurse and runs the infirmary.  She has years of experience, and so do the other sisters on her staff.”  Alicia paused, hesitating for the merest of moments, and when she spoke again her voice was hushed.  “Sabina’s very, very ill at this point.  But then, you know that, darling girl.”

 

     Sitting on her side of the bed in her bedroom, Therese cradled the phone under her chin, pulling the blanket up even more.  Butterflies took flight in her stomach.  “Alicia, is she…is she dying?” 

 

     Therese heard the hesitation and the sigh.  “Dear heart, only God knows that answer.  None of us can say how much time she might have.  But trust me when I tell you she’s in wonderful hands, getting good medical care.  She came to us with very little, Therese…I’m very glad Sabina was willing to come.  No one should have to suffer and die alone.”

 

     The younger woman clutched at her chest, trying to loosen the tightness that made her breathing hitched.  She leaned back on the pillows, looking at the ceiling aimlessly.  _Where are the answers now?  What should I do?_   She didn’t even notice Carol emerge from the bathroom, her face clean and moisturized, her graceful, barefoot stride a whisper against the plush carpet.

 

     “Alicia, I don’t know what to do…where to be…”  The mattress sagged, and Carol slid next to her, taking one cold hand in her own warmer one.  Therese looked at her, surprised she was there.

 

     “Where do you want to be, love?” the old nun asked gently.

 

     “There…but not there.”  _Mount Everest?  The moon?  Neptune?_

 

     “I’m not surprised.”  Alicia hesitated again.  “Are you praying at all, Therese?”  The young brunette was quiet, listening to the erratic beat of her heart as it thrummed against her breast.  Carol’s thumb was sketching soothing arabesques in her palm, and Therese closed her eyes, trying to focus on the flowing motion.  She nodded.  “Yes, I am, Alicia,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper.  “I don’t know if it’s working, but I can’t seem to stop.”

 

     In her little room at Pace de Christo, Alicia smiled.  _If you only knew how many times_ _I’ve heard those words…_ “Well, don’t stop, dear heart.  Keep praying to be guided, to know what you need from this time…”  She paused once again, which was quite unlike Alicia.  She usually powered through their phone conversations with the energy of a Manhattan taxi driver.

 

     “What is it you’re not telling me?” Therese asked, her powers of perception alerted by the old nun’s frequent hesitations.  On the other end of the line, Alicia chewed her lip.  “Oh, I don’t…”  She exhaled, frustrated with herself now.  _Lord, help me here._   “I don’t want to meddle, Therese.  It’s not something I’m in the habit of doing, but…”

 

     “Alicia, whatever it is you’re not telling me— _please tell me!”_   Next to Therese, Carol’s eyebrows shot up.  She’d never heard the younger woman be so impatient with her beloved friend, and a quick glance at her face revealed the emerald eyes growing dark with temper, and a faint flush staining her cheeks.

 

     “Right, then.  Okay, I’m going to meddle.  I don’t know if you’ve given any thought to whether you might want to meet Peter or Millicent, dear.  But Sr. Catherine mentioned to me that your brother had called earlier today.  His ship is coming into Navy base Earle, down there by you.  He has some shore leave coming up and mentioned coming up here to see Sabina.”

 

     Therese could feel heart pounding, harder now and even more erratic. 

 

     “Would you want me to have Sr. Catherine give him your phone number, Therese?  I believe she can get a message to him, due to Sabina’s health circumstances, so I’m sure she’d be happy to ask Peter to call you.”  From the other end of the line came only static, and Alicia frowned.  “No?  Okay.  That’s fine, and I’m sorry if…if I’ve spoken where I shouldn’t have.”

 

     In their bed, Therese leaned into Carol’s slender warmth, seeking the steadiness of her strength.  “No!  No, I—it’s fine!  Thank you for telling me.  Please, Alicia, have her give him my number.”  She looked into Carol’s blue gray eyes, where questions had sprouted.

 

     “I’d like to talk with Peter.  And please, keep praying for all of us.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you this story is filling your cup somehow. Thank you for reading, for commenting...  
> I'm thankful you're here with us!


	15. 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will make a way in the wilderness  
> and rivers in the desert.  
> Isaiah 43:19

   _  
_

 

    It was lunch time, and Therese and her friend and coworker, Dannie McElroy, were in the lunch room at the _Times,_ eating meatball sandwiches.  Or rather, Dannie was eating and the young woman nibbling.  Though the sandwich was delicious, the sauce rich and melted mozzarella cheese hugged the meat, she found she didn’t have much of an appetite.  Her stomach was feeling fluttery, and thoughts of Sabina and Peter were intruding into her attempts to make light conversation.

 

     Dannie was a kind and perceptive young man, and it didn’t take him long to realize Therese was distracted and quite unlike her typical upbeat self.  Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he cocked his head to one side and studied her, watching her take tiny bites that she then forgot to chew.  He took a sip of soda, scratching the crown of his dark head as he contemplated.

 

     “So, Therese, you’re obviously not hungry, and you’re not yourself, either.”  He put both elbows on the table and looked at her closely, trying to gauge her current mood.  “Do you want to tell me what’s up?”

 

     She shook her head.  Unable to make eye contact, the lovely brunette fiddled with the edges of her paper napkin.  This was neither the time nor the place to talk about her family, the mere thought of which made her almost shake with vulnerability.  But she smiled across at Dannie, appreciating his warmth and openness, his boyishly handsome face and smiling eyes.  “You’re a good friend, Dannie.  Thanks for asking, but I can’t get into it now.  It’s just…family stuff.”

 

     He sat back, nodding with understanding.  “Ah, yea, well…family stuff can be real tough for a lot of us.”  He smiled, and Therese thought about how very kind Dannie was.  At this moment, his open, relaxed manner was a relief, his kindness a balm.  “Hey listen, I’m not going anywhere, Therese.  So if you need something, let me know, okay?”

 

     _Ask him._ Therese heard the words spoken clearly in her head.  _Ask him, dear._ It was the decorators again; of this she was certain.  She closed her eyes, shaking her head, almost irritated but perhaps more comforted that the quirky, loving, dream weavers seemed to be popping into her conscious awareness periodically.  She knew what they were suggesting now, and stared back at Dannie blankly, her thoughts racing.  _No way.  I can’t._

 

     “Therese?  I think I lost you.”  He leaned forward again, his lean body communicating concerned interest.  “You okay?” 

_Ask him.  Ask him._ They were speaking in stereo sound, the deep, calming voice, the peppy, energetic voice.  _Ask him._ “Dannie, do you pray?” she blurted, and then her eyes flew open in shock and mortification.  “Oh!  I’m sorry!  I shouldn’t have…I’m not sure why I…”  _It’s going to be okay.  It’s okay, dear._   But Therese’s heart was racing, and she suddenly felt panicked, and very foolish.

 

     Dannie, though, seemed to take her question in stride, his expressive eyebrows telling the story of his own meandering thoughts.  “Hmm…well, I am Irish, you know.  And from a full-blown Irish-Catholic family, and—”

 

     Therese shook her head with vehemence, cutting him off.  “Dannie, no, I shouldn’t have asked you!  What a question, and here at work…” She was embarrassed.  Mortified, even, and she wished the decorators would shut up and she would stop listening.  The young man was smiling good-naturedly, though, and didn’t seem in the least nonplussed.  He laughed.

 

     “Therese, geez, it’s okay!  Trust me, it’s a common question in my family.  _Daniel, when’s the last_ _time you went to mass?”_ he asked, in a much higher pitched voice.  Then he laughed again.  “No, I don’t really pray anymore.  Had too big a dose of that growing up, if you catch my drift.”  A momentary remorse darted across his face, and then he brightened.  “But my mom!  She’s next in line to be pope!”  He shook his head, clearly amazed.  “Man, can she pray!  And she belongs to these groups at her church…the Ladies’ Guild, maybe?  And the Rosary Club, I think, or something like that.”  He paused, then grinned in boyish fashion.  “You want me to have her pray for you?”

 

     No, I don’t!  Let’s stop talking about praying now, she thought.  _Yes, you do._  Therese found herself nodding, though she wanted to run from the lunch room as quickly as her legs would carry her.  “Yes, Dannie, but…not for me.”  Sabina’s thin, gray face filled her mind’s eye.  “For my—for Sabina.  Can you ask her to pray for Sabina?”

 

     Her friend smiled.  “You bet!  She loves prayer requests, Therese.  She’ll tell the whole Ladies Guild to pray, too!  You ought to see our house.  A saint in every corner…Mary in the front yard…baby Jesus on the mantle…”  Dannie stopped, and his green eyes flamed with warmth and something deeper, something good and true and beautiful to witness.  “Pray for Sabina.  Okay, consider it done.”

 

     Across the table and down to Therese’s right, a man with dark, curly hair picked his head up, swallowing his food.  He wiped his mouth, appearing to hesitate before taking another bite.  He looked at the pretty, young woman and Dannie, whom he knew well because their office desks were closely situated.  Giving only a moment’s more pause, he slid over.

 

     Dannie smiled.  “Hey, Barry, how’s it going?”  He gestured toward Therese, who turned to look at the man, noticing his diffident expression.  “This is Therese Belivet, ace photographer.  And Therese,” he indicated with a nod toward the newcomer, “Barry Rosen, ace editor.”  Another good-natured grin.

 

     Barry cleared his throat, clearly hesitating.  When he spoke, his tone was low and well-modulated.  “Yes, well, I’m sorry but…I heard bits and pieces of your conversation and…”  He shifted as if in discomfort but pressed forward.  “Therese, if you like, I can pray, also.”  His look was so sincere; she thought him utterly beautiful.  “I’m Jewish, my wife and I…we go to synagogue, we pray at home with our children.”  He bowed his head.  “But God is God, no?”

 

     Therese felt her face grow warm.  A pink flush stained her cheeks, and her emerald eyes shimmered, deep now with mystery.  She thought she felt a bird flutter in her chest, though perhaps it was the beating wings of some celestial being.  On her shoulders, she was certain she felt the warm, reassuring hands of the decorators.  _Again._

 

     She nodded, offering a small, stunned smile that barely brought forth her dimples.  “Yes,” she replied, so softly the two men almost couldn’t hear.  “Yes, Barry.  Please, pray for Sabina.”

 

                                     _________________________________________________

 

     As she walked home from work that evening, Therese swore all life around her was clarified, magnified, more distinct.  Her senses seemed to vibrate like a tuning fork smacked against heaven’s kneecap, and the usual atmosphere of Manhattan, typically so foreboding, appeared warmer and less intimidating.  She breathed in a full lungful of cool air, feeling invigorated and thankful. 

Hurrying along, her square heels clicking in concert on the pavement with thousands of other shoes, Therese smiled.  _That’s it!  I’m_ _feeling thankful!  How could I not?  Dannie…and Barry.  How could they be so generous, so kind?  They didn’t even know Sabina!_ The young woman picked up her pace; her feet were flying on pillows of air.  A very simple prayer rose from her heart.  _Thank you!_   She thought of the decorators, those strange figments of her imagination who were also so very real to her, her coaches in a sport she had no idea how to play.  _Thank you!_   _And God, if you’re listening…thank you_ , _too!_

 

     Perhaps she’d floated into their building; she didn’t remember her arrival.   And now, entering the apartment, Therese’s nostrils were assaulted by the most delicious smells.  She stood completely still for a moment.  The sound of pans being jostled about caught her attention.  “Carol?” she called, loudly enough to make herself heard above the racket.  “Is that you…I hope?”

 

     “Hi, sweetheart!  Welcome home!  How was your day?” her partner shouted back.  Slipping off her shoes, the young brunette took a few steps to the side table, where she lay her keys down before heading to the kitchen.  “It was good, but…why are you home?  I thought you’d be closing up the shop late to—”

 

     Having rounded the corner into the kitchen, Therese stopped in her tracks, stunned speechless at the sight that greeted her.  To say it was in disarray was an understatement.  The sink where Carol stood was filled with soapy water and a considerable mound of bowls, pots, and utensils.  The countertop was littered with tins of flour and sugar, butter wrappers, and smatterings of what looked like cake batter and chocolate icing.  A small bag of whole pecans had spilled over, the deep brown nuts dense and fragrant.  There was an empty yeast packet and a dusting of cornmeal, too.

 

     Therese’s eyes moved next to the table, widening with unmistakable surprise.  A chocolate cake stood on a platter, swirls of thick icing making her mouth water.  A plump, golden pie, with a lattice crust and chunks of apples peeking out.  A platter of cookies.  Oatmeal, perhaps?  The delectable looking mounds were dotted with lush, black raisins…or maybe dates?  The young woman was mesmerized, her senses reeling.  An aroma of heated yeast emanated from the oven.

 

     She turned to look at Carol, who stood at the sink with flour on her chin, her cheeks flushed with baker’s heat and hair in disarray.  The elegant blond held up soapy hands with a shrug of her shoulders.  “Hello, darling,” she said in her deep voice.  “I took a half-day off.  I…I bake when I’m nervous, and Peter’s coming tomorrow and…”  Her smile was sheepish, tentative.  “I’m nervous.”

 

     Therese brought a hand to her heart, which suddenly was flooded with such deep love it seized her chest.  She felt bewildered. _Where is this all coming from?_   She crossed the room, her stocking feet graceful, almost silent.  She slipped her arms around Carol’s apron-covered waist, laying her head on her chest.  The woman smelled like yeast and heat and skin and wisteria, and Therese found it both comforting and completely erotic.  Gazing up, she offered a tender smile.  “Carol, you are…”  The younger woman shook her head, searching for words she couldn’t find.  She was simply the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, and her tall elegance was illuminated by a pulsating inner beauty.

 

     Therese licked her lips, felt her throat grow tight with emotion.  “You are so beautiful.  And this,” she whispered with a nod of her head toward the dessert-laden table, “is so kind, so giving…”  Her voice trailed away.  She watched Carol smile, fascinated by the lines and angles of her classic bone structure. “I’m very nervous, sweetheart.  And I want to make it such a nice dinner for him, for us!”

 

     Unable to resist, Therese stood on her tiptoes and kissed her, a gentle kiss, then another.  Carol’s lips tasted like salt and chocolate and the younger woman felt a thrumming awareness flicker to life, as quick as a match struck in the darkness.  She kissed her again, felt wet hands come around her waist and didn’t care that her blouse was made damp.  Her tongue came out to outline Carol’s lips, and then to seek the moist, sweet recesses of her inviting mouth.

 

     Carol moaned, and Therese felt herself growing damp in other places, too.  “Darling, my bread…”

 

     Therese shushed her with another kiss, more forceful now and commanding.  “How long?” she breathed, her hands running up and down the taller woman’s lean back, loving the feel of the heated skin and sinew beneath her blouse.  Carol moaned again.  “I don’t know, really…”  Her words were heavy, as if she was slowly giving in to a drug.  She struggled to concentrate, with Therese’s pelvis moving oh-so-slowly against her own.  Then she felt an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin at the base of her throat.  “Ahh…Therese.  Maybe… _Jesus!_ I can’t…thirty minutes?” she asked, pulling the number out of the fog.

 

     Therese smiled, her green eyes dark and luminous.  She reached for the buttons on Carol’s blouse, one hand immediately slipping inside her bra to palm a warm breast, tease a nipple.  “Oh my god, darling…” Carol gasped, her voice clipped. 

 

     “Well then…thirty minutes will have to do!” Therese whispered, pulling her toward the bedroom.

 

                                     __________________________________________________

 

     It was after, now.  After the loving.  After the cleanup.  After grilled cheese sandwiches on delectable, fresh bread.  After red wine and a whiskey.  After a warm bath for two, complete with candlelight.

 

     They were cocooned under the blankets, holding each other, weary now from the rigors of the day.  Therese lay contented but aware of a lingering anxiety.  She could tell Carol was feeling it, too, felt it now in the slight tension in her lover’s muscles.  Peter was coming for dinner tomorrow, and neither of them really knew how to prepare for this emotionally.

 

     The younger woman felt a wave of remorse wash over her, and sadness that she was dragging Carol through the muck of her history.  _God, what a messy journey._   She hugged her now, trying to convey gratitude, trying to stave off the anguish that kept lapping at the edges of her consciousness.  Carol could sense the slight change in Therese.  She drew slow circles on her back, the same, comforting motion she would use to help Rindy fall asleep.

 

     “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”  The question was spoken softly into the velvety darkness that surrounded them now.  Therese shook her head and took a breath.  “I feel like I’m on a seesaw.  Okay, then not okay.  Meeting Peter is the right decision.  And then it’s the worst possible thing I could do!  And then…Carol?  Does all this make you regret being with me?  Do you feel like you’re in a relationship with Odysseus or something?”

 

     The older woman’s hand stilled, and then she laughed, one of her robust, belly laughs that Therese loved so much.  “ _Odysseus?_   Therese, you are…”  She laughed again, unable to help herself as visions of a hairy man in an ancient sailing ship filled her mind.  She moved her long legs, brought up a foot to stroke Therese’s smooth, bare leg.  “No, darling, you are definitely not Odysseus!”  More laughter, and a gentle kiss on Therese’s forehead.  “One of the sirens, perhaps…”

 

     Therese smiled despite herself, tightening her arms again.  “It just seems so bizarre!  So convoluted and hard and…”  She leaned back, trying to see the older woman’s eyes in the dim light spilling through the blinds.  “I’m sorry, you know.”

 

     Carol shook her head.  “No, Therese.  We’re not going there.  You’ve nothing to apologize for, honey!  Your life…this _odyssey_ we’re on…”  She kissed her forehead again, deeply comforted by Therese’s silky, warm skin, her scent so sweet and inviting.  “I’m here by choice, darling.  And I don’t want to be anywhere else, either!”

 

     The younger woman felt her eyelids growing heavy, then closing once again.  _Somehow it will be_ _okay.  I’m safe here with Carol.  I’m okay.  I’m worthwhile.  I can love and protect myself.  God, be with me, be with us tomorrow.  St.Francis, be with us, too.  Oh, you too, decorators!  Just bring us love…please…_

 

     The two women fell asleep, arms entwined around each other.  It was safe to sleep.  The Spirit was wide awake.

 

                                    ________________________________________________

 

     The phone rang, jolting Therese out of her reverie.  She set the napkins down, hurrying to interrupt the ringing that was drowning out Billie Holiday’s exquisite voice on the record player.

 

     “Hello,” she answered, pushing a sleek wave of brunette hair from her cheek.

 

     “Hello, ma’am.  Is this Therese?”  The male voice was clipped and low, though still youthful.  Therese was instantly on alert.  _Peter._

“Yes, it is.  Peter?”

 

     “Yes, ma’am.  This is Peter.  I’m calling because I’ve run in to a…complication,” the young man explained.  “I’ve been in the city for a couple days now, staying with friends.  My sister, Bub--er, Millicent, has been with me since last evening.  Sister Josephine from St. Agatha’s was due to pick her up early this afternoon.”  He hesitated, and Therese tensed.  She could feel her entire body go on alert.

 

     “At any rate,” Peter continued, “Sr. just called to say she can’t make it due to car trouble.  I’m calling to…either reschedule our dinner, or ask if Millicent can come with me to your home?”  His tone was hopeful, yet respectful and very serious.

 

     By now Carol had come out of the kitchen, the scent of rosemary and thyme clinging faintly to her hands.  She looked at Therese, sensing the young woman’s racing thoughts and uncertainty.  Therese extended a hand toward her as she spoke. 

 

     “Yes…well, Carol is right here. Let me check with her.”  She pressed the phone into her hip, her green eyes clouded with question and apprehension.  “It’s Peter.” she explained in a soft voice.  “He has Millicent with him…the nun who was to come get her can’t make it.”  Therese inhaled deeply, trying to remain calm.  She tilted her head, her question already painted on her face.  “He’s asking…do we want to reschedule, or can he bring her along?”

 

     Carol’s eyebrows shot up.  Though surprised, she also felt their response was a foregone conclusion.  “It’s obvious to me, sweetheart,” she whispered.  “He should just bring her along, don’t you think?”  Therese was nodding even before Carol finished speaking.  Despite the butterflies that had begun hammering their wings against her belly, how could there be a different answer?

 

     “Peter, we both want you to bring Millicent with you,” Therese replied, sounding much more confident than she felt.  “I’ve been wanting to meet her, too.”  From the other end of the line came rustling and momentary static. 

 

     “Okay, well, thank you, ma’am.  Millicent and I will be there around four, just as we’d planned.”

 

     After Peter had hung up, Carol and Therese just stood for a moment, staring dumbly at each other.  In all honesty, Therese wanted to collapse, or scream and run away, and Carol felt she would be hot on her heels.  They had talked this morning, laying in bed in the safety of each other’s arms.  They had given voice to the intense vulnerability that clung to their skin, that hovered in the air, a haunting third party that followed them day in and day out.  The companion that protected and exhausted them both.

 

_This is who we are.  This is how we live.  This is how we love.  No apologies.  And how will Peter behave?  Will he be kind and accepting, or hostile and disapproving?  Will they have to keep heavy armor in place just to survive?  Will they have to ask him to leave…because make no mistake, they would?_

 

     Now, Carol closed her eyes, willing herself forward.  Then she squeezed Therese’s hand, the one she still held securely in her own.  “Darling, I don’t care if it’s only noon.  The chicken is in the oven…I’ve got more to do, but let’s have a drink, okay?”

 

     Therese just nodded, because she still couldn’t find words.  Sometimes, there just weren’t any.

 

     So, they sat on the sofa with glasses of amber colored whiskey in their hands.  Their bodies were aligned, shoulder to hip to knee.  The warmth this created was soothing, sustaining, somehow sacred.  Carol breathed slowly.  Her thoughts played like a movie reel, in her mind and against the far wall, again and again.  She was thankful for the whiskey that ran through her veins.  She needed this interior coating of bravery, whether imagined or not.

 

     Clearing her throat, Carol spoke.  “You know, Alicia would say we should pray.”  Her words drifted out to dance atop the movie reel.  Therese smiled faintly, taking a deep breath.  “I already am, love.”  She closed her eyes and clutched at the older woman’s hand, trying to communicate reassurance with her touch, because she still couldn’t find words to say.

 

     Therese put her head on Carol’s shoulder.  It was quiet, and the aroma of roasting chicken filled the air.  They held hands, and sunshine spilled in through the window. 

 

     And somehow, they found peace.

 

                                     _______________________________________________

    

     When the doorbell rang several hours later, all was ready.  Therese found Carol in the kitchen before going to the door.  She slipped her arms around her slender waist, loving the warmth of her, the sustaining comfort of her touch.  The slender brunette reached up, leaving a tender kiss on Carol’s cheek. 

 

_This is who we are.  This is how we love._

She smiled, and Carol smiled, too, both knowing that despite all the fear, this was the right thing to do.  “Come on, Carol.  Let’s go meet my brother and sister.”  As they walked to the door, Therese swore she felt the decorators, too, striding with them, comfort on one side and reassurance on the other.  She could have sworn she heard them whispering, too: _I make all things new._   _I make all things new.  I make all things new._

She opened the door, and her eyes fell immediately upon the handsome young man in the Naval uniform.  He was very tall, with coarse, black hair cut short in military fashion.  He had dark, serious eyes and an olive complexion, and a well-defined jaw that currently displayed the muscles he was clenching.

Therese smiled pleasantly, though she felt vaguely light-headed.  She nodded politely.  “Peter?  I’m Therese.”  He smiled, inclining his head slightly.  “Good afternoon, ma’am.”  He made eye contact with Carol, nodding again.  “Good afternoon, ma’am.  I’m Peter, and this is my younger sister, Millicent.”

 

     They all turned their heads to look at the much shorter girl.  She had fine, light brown hair and a round face that was plastered with a smile, and the slanted, almond-shaped eyes that indicated an individual who’d been born with a mental handicap.  The girl was practically bouncing with excitement, her sneaker-clad feet shuffling on the hallway carpet.

 

     Before Therese or Carol could say a word, Millicent exclaimed, “Hi!  Pete’s wrong.  I’m not Millicent!  My name is Bubbles!”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'm grateful to those of you that are along for this journey.  
> I'm so very glad you're here.


	16. 16

  
_  
_

_And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been._ The Rilke quote slipped through Therese’s mind in a quicksilver moment.  It was so apropos, even on this October night and _tell me about it, Rilke!_ The young woman stood rooted in place as a seeming kaleidoscope of feelings spun wildly through her slim body, and all about things which had never been _.  My brother, my sister.  Your_ _eyes look like mine!  Are those my hands?  I want to run my fingers over the bones of your face.  I want to hug you!  You seem so tense!  You’re disabled; I’ll take care of you!  I’m so glad to meet you!  I want to run like hell.  Are you there, God?  I’m in way over my head!_

She had no idea where her smile came from, nor the joy rising from this unfamiliar wellspring.  “Bubbles!  I _love_ that name and I’m so happy to meet you!” Therese exclaimed, tears stinging the backs of her eyes.  She looked at Carol briefly, saw her flushed cheeks and open smile and thought perhaps she’d never loved her more than in this very moment.

 

     The tall blond stepped forward to formally shake Bubble’s hand.  “I love your name too, Bubbles!  It makes me feel happy!  Welcome to our home!” 

The teen beamed at them both until she was distracted by barking.  Having heard the commotion at the door, Benny came running at breakneck speed, his mismatched ears pinned back and tail flying.  He skidded to a stop between Carol and Therese, commencing to bark at the strangers with all the ferocity a fifteen-pound dog was capable of.  The women moved to shush him.

 

     “Benny, shh!”  Another bark.  “Benny, enough!”  A softer bark, a yip, a retiring, low-pitched growl.  He leaned against Carol’s legs, apparently satisfied that his mistresses would not be knifed to death any time soon.  Carol smiled at the strangers, swiping at the wayward curl that blocked one of her blue gray eyes.  “This is Benny.”

 

     Before another word could be spoken, Bubbles was on her knees with her arms flung around the pooch’s small body.  “Benny!  Hi Benny!  I’m Bubbles.  Oh, you’re so soft, doggie!”  She turned to look up at her brother.  “Pete, Benny’s so soft!  Touch him, Pete!”  She spoke in a slow, rhythmic way, a cadence all her own that was quite different than any Therese and Carol would typically hear.  But her open-hearted enthusiasm was bewitching and melted their hearts on the spot.

 

     Peter crouched down, petting Benny’s silky head with a large, masculine hand.  The dog was now in Bubble’s lap, curled up in a small lump as if he’d known the girl all his life.  She beamed at him, then her brother.  “It isn’t he just great, Pete?  Isn’t he?”  Her brown eyes were glowing, full cheeks pink, and the tip of her tongue hung slightly out of her mouth as she took short, excited breaths.

 

     The young man smiled with obvious tenderness at his sister.  “He is great, Bubbles!  But how about we come in out of the hallway and get you off the cold ground, okay?”  He stood up, and Therese was struck once again by his height, by the breadth of his shoulders and erect posture.  He smiled at her, then Carol, the cloak of quiet seriousness lingering in his dark eyes.  Peter nodded.  “Thank you for having us.”

 

     Carol glanced quickly at Therese, then held out a demure hand, years of good breeding taking over.  “Let me have your coats, Peter.  And we’re so happy you could come.  Please, come in.  You must be ready for a drink and a good meal, I hope.”

 

     Therese was ever thankful to her beautiful partner for her grace and generosity.  She really had no idea what to say, looking down at Bubbles and Benny, who were now on the dining room floor where the teen was whispering in the dog’s ear.  She shuffled her brown suede loafers, then looked up, directly into her brother’s eyes.  “I have no idea what to say,” she blurted, her honesty both disarming and unexpected.  The pretty brunette waved her pale hands nervously.  “This is so strange and so…wonderful, I think.”

 

     Peter held her gaze, nodding.  “Yes, ma’am, it is both.”

 

     The stiff formality made her cringe.  “Oh, please, Peter!  Is it a naval rule?  Do you have to call me _ma’am?_   Call me Therese, please?”

 

     Once again, he nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.”  His serious tone gave way to a small smile.  “Therese.”  She returned his smile, and a moment passed between them, so foreign and yet so lovely it pierced her.  _Messing around with my brother._   She caught her breath, and tears stung the back of her eyes once again.

 

     “Is Benny a boy or a girl?” Bubbles asked, standing now, “and can I play with him?”  Therese was relieved at the interruption and offered the young girl a pleased smile.  “Benny is a boy, and I think he’d love for you to play with him!”  She pointed at a nook in the hallway where a basket of dog toys was kept.  “There’s a basket of his toys over there, Bubbles.  He likes to bring you the blue dog if you throw it for him.”

 

     Bubbles clapped.  “Thank you!  Okay, Benny, let’s play!”  The little dog’s ears popped up immediately and he launched himself to his feet, still with a pup’s energy.  He trotted after the teen just as Carol glided back into the room, bringing her calm elegance with her.

 

     “The chicken will be done soon.  Let’s all sit and have a whiskey, shall we?  And we’ll offer Bubbles something to drink when she’s ready,” Carol stated with satisfaction, her long arm indicating the sofa.

 

     Peter looked relieved.  “That sounds wonderful, ma’am.  I’d like a whiskey very much.”

 

     She rolled her eyes, then looked at the young man pointedly.  “It will be our pleasure to offer you one, Peter, but no more calling me _ma’am_!  Or no whiskey!” she threatened with a laugh.

 

                                  ___________________________________________________

 

          Somewhere during dinner, Therese realized she’s drifted up in the balcony.  She was sitting around the dinner table with the others, physically present, but her emotional self was floating above, hovering at a safe distance while pondering the keg of dynamite that “family” was to her.  It had become too threatening at some point, this being here with Peter and Bubbles.  She was beyond grateful that Carol was by her side.  Still, sitting across from her brother and sister seemed far too dangerous, and far too taxing for her to risk her whole being.

 

     So, she floated above the table treading water in the air, away from the imminent explosions that could conceivably erupt in her psyche with the glint of an eye, a turn of phrase, a word, a silence, a breath.  She was safe up here, or at least she was until the decorators appeared on either side of her.  Like winged cherubs, they aimed their wisdom arrows at the very marrow of her heart.  “Go back down there, darling!  It will be okay; we’re with you, dear.  You need to be there.  Not for Peter or Bubbles or Sabina.  Go back down there for YOU.”

 

    Because she couldn’t seem to ignore them, she descended in the slipstream of her own courage, slipping back into her chair just in time to observe the tension in Peter’s fingers on the stem of his wine glass.  His hands were beautiful, and she wished she had her camera.  She would have loved to photograph the long, slender fingers, the neat nails, the wiry black hair that stopped just short of his knuckles that she had the most curious desire to touch.  She thought his hands told a story, reflected every emotion she could intuit.  Anger, sadness, fear, regret.  They were all there in the whiteness of the nail beds and the protective way he touched his sister’s shoulder.

 

     Now, it was tension she saw in the way he grasped his glass.

 

     “Therese?”  She blinked, finally shaking herself out of her deep thoughts.  “Are you okay, darling?”  The younger woman blinked again, turning to look blankly at Carol, brushing the flyaway wisps of dark hair out of her eyes.  When she finally focused, she observed the most concerned look on her partner’s face, the worry in the blue gray eyes, the upturned, inquiring expression of her eyebrows.  Carol smiled gently.  “Are you okay?”

 

     Therese nodded mutely, then looked at Peter and Bubbles, who also were staring at her with concern on their faces.  “Are you okay, Therese?” Bubbles asked, and the blatant worry in her voice caused chagrin.  Therese smiled with as much reassurance as she could muster.  “I’m fine, Bubbles, just fine!  I’m sorry.  My mind wandered away!”

 

     “Therese?” The teen’s voice ventured again into the expectant silence around the table.  “Are you my sister now?”  As soon as Bubble’s question was spoken, Carol’s hand shot out beneath the tablecloth, finding Therese’s knee unerringly and clutching it.  _I’m here.  You’re not alone._

 

     “Bubbles!” Peter exclaimed.  “This isn’t the time or place for that question, honey!  Let’s let—”

 

     But Therese wasn’t having it.  “No!” she interrupted.  “It’s fine!  I’m just…”  Her voice faded away, and she looked at Bubbles directly.  The girl’s cheeks were flushed, perhaps with shame, and her narrow eyes glinted with tears.  Therese felt her heart clench in pain.  “Bubbles, it’s okay.  I’m glad you asked, sweetie.”  She smiled in lopsided fashion.  “The answer is yes!  Yes, I’m your older sister.  We have the same mother, but not the same dad.  So that makes us half-sisters.”

 

     Bubbles stared at her, clearly not impressed with Therese’s attempts at clarification.  “Well,” Bubbles replied, “there’s not half of you here.  So I’ll just call you my sister.”  She paused, her head tilted but eyes ever focused.  “My dad’s dead.  I’m glad,” she stated matter-of-factly.  “He needed to be dead.  He was mean to mama.”

 

     This was spoken with such honest conviction that Therese caught her breath.  She thought she heard Carol whisper, “Oh, my.  Oh, my.”

 

     Peter’s masculine voice cut through the silence.  “Bubbles, let’s talk about this another time, okay?”  But Therese shook her head with conviction, smiling at the darkly handsome young man nonetheless.  “No, Peter.  It’s okay.  It’s really okay.”

 

     “Bubbles, you’re so brave, speaking so honestly!  Thank you for telling me how you feel,” the young brunette stated, smiling at her younger sister.  The teen returned the smile, but her brown eyes darted away quickly.  “Daddy was bad.  Where’s Benny?”  As if she couldn’t sit still another moment, Bubbles looked around for the dog, then at Peter.  “Pete, can I go find Benny now?  Look how much I ate!”

 

     Peter put a gentle hand on his younger sister’s shoulder.  ‘‘You did eat a lot.  Why don’t you thank Carol and Therese, and then I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you went to find Benny.”  She gazed at her hosts, and it was easy to see the pain lingering on the teen’s face.  But she smiled bravely and said, “Thank you very much for the chicken and stuffing.  And the mashed potatoes were my favorite!”

 

     Carol felt her heart aching for this sweet young teen.  She wanted to embrace her, let her know the safety of her hug.  She smiled gently.  “Bubbles, you are so welcome, dear.  You have been the best dinner guest and we’re so glad you came!  Benny’s glad, too!”

 

     As Bubbles slipped away from the table, the three adults made eye contact.  It was a moment of extraordinary courage.  None wore a mask, and the truth levitated in the air, its pulse throbbing, its tiny wings as strong and graceful as a hummingbird’s.  Therese felt Carol’s hand rubbing soothing circles on her thigh.  She attempted a smile at Peter, who had a strained look on his face, a muscle clenching in his strong jaw.  She thought he might snap the stem of his wine glass in two.

 

     “I’m sorry, Peter.  It sounds like life with Nick was hell,” Therese observed, her voice tentative and uncertain. 

 

     Peter’s dark eyes looked haunted in the flickering candlelight at the table.  He nodded, pausing to take a deep breath.  “You could say that.”  He closed his eyes for a moment as if gathering the strength to continue.  “I don’t disagree with Bubbles.  I’m glad Nick is dead.  If he…the older I got, the more I thought I would kill him myself.  If he ever laid another hand on mom, on Bubbles or me…”  His voice faded, he stared off into distance as images unspooled from tightly wound threads.  Peter cleared his throat.  “I know mom will be gone soon.  Bubbles will be my responsibility then.  I’m getting excellent training in the navy; when I get out I’ll be able to support us.”  He looked over to the sofa, where the girl was sitting with Benny curled in her lap.  His smile was tender, and when he looked back at Carol and Therese it was with almost heartbreaking clarity.

 

     “You must feel like mom ditched you, Therese.  You may have been far better off.  It was such hell…”  Peter shook his head and looked far older than his years.  “Maybe now we can go forward.”  He cleared his throat again.  “We can try to be a family if you want…or at least friends.”

 

     Therese felt Carol’s hand clamped so tightly on her thigh she thought her whole leg would soon go numb.  But she put her own hand over Carol’s, drawing strength from the warmth generated by their touch.  She spoke softly.  “Thank you, Peter.  I’m not sure how this all will work out but…”  She looked at him, her emerald eyes direct, penetrating, shimmering with a sheen of tears.

 

     “I’d like very much to try to be a family.  Whatever that will mean.”

 

                                       _________________________________________________  

 

     Much later, they lay in bed with their arms around each other.  Neither Carol nor Therese felt moved to say much.  Or perhaps it was more that there was no energy to do so.  Rain had begun falling a couple hours prior and they had cracked the bedroom window despite the chilly temperature.  It beat a soothing, gentle rhythm in the places it reached the balcony.  Therese thought it was a gift from heaven, and with her eyes closed imagined her upturned face being cleansed and kissed, fortified and soothed.

 

     The younger woman was far too weary to even think about processing the events of the day.  At this point, she imagined she had the emotional capacities of a sack of potatoes, or perhaps even less.  Instead, she gave herself the gifts of self-acceptance and compassion in these moments and felt shocked she was able to do so.  _It’s enough to do what I was able to, to be who I am, to give what I could give.  It’s enough._ Perhaps she was being given a special grace tonight, because she felt completely at peace in the moment.

 

     She tightened her arms around Carol, kissed her shoulder and inhaled her warm scent through the thin material of her silk pajama top.  She was overwhelmed with love for the woman, could barely speak it out.  “I don’t even have the words to thank you for today, you know.”  Her voice was a hushed whisper.  “I’ll never be able to say thank you enough or show you the love you deserve.”

 

     Carol smiled against Therese’s smooth forehead, brushing back and forth with her lips, dropping a kiss her and there.  “Sweetheart, I’ve been laying here thinking that I should be thanking _you.”_ She leaned back so she could gaze into Therese’s eyes, so dark and unreadable in the dim lighting.  “This evening was pure gift to me, Therese.  It was simply one of the richest experiences I’ve ever had the privilege of being a part of.  Without you in my life, I would never have been so blessed.”

 

     The younger woman smiled in the darkness.  “ _Blessed._ Alicia has really rubbed off on both of us, hasn’t she?  To be blessed and actually know it, think it…speak it.” 

 

     Carol nodded, then fell silent for another moment or two.  “Do you remember my Elevator Voice, darling?”

 

     “Of course, why?”

 

     “I heard it tonight, at dinner.  It was such a surprise!  It’s been a while…I have no idea where it comes from or why it comes and goes.”  Laying here now, she felt the energy begin to flow through her again.  A warmth surrounded her heart and emanated outward, leaving a trail of deep peace.

 

     “And?” Therese coaxed, though part of her was wondering if they were both going crazy.  Her decorators, Carol’s Elevator Voice…what in the world was happening?  “What did it say?”

 

     Carol tightened her arms, loving this warmth, this intimacy, the gift of this deep friendship.  She kissed Therese’s forehead, remembering.

_“Love burns like a blazing fire, like a mighty flame.  Many waters cannot quench love, nor rivers sweep it away.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and apologies. I'm so sorry it's taken so long to post this and that I've yet to reply to your last comments.  
> I was so ill last week and my energy stores were depleted.  
> But alas, the ladies have spoken and I was blessed with the energy to put their story on paper once again. Deo Gracias!  
> I hope you are all well! I thank you for reading and send you deepest peace.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lo, I am with you always,  
> even to the end of the age.  
> Matthew 28:20
> 
> i will hold you in my arms  
> like an infant;  
> i will hold your cup  
> when you are weak.  
> i will wipe your brow  
> when you are struggling;  
> i will carry  
> the promise you seek.  
> GG

     Therese lay in bed the next morning listening to the soft whisper of Carol’s breathing.  On her side with one hand tucked under her pillow and the other under her cheek, she followed the graceful curves of her lover’s body, taking great pleasure in doing so.  The woman was more than lovely, her length and lines a picture of grace and unconscious beauty that made Therese ache inside.  The sun was peeking in around the blinds, creating a subtle illumination that formed the perfect backdrop.  She thought it would make the most wonderful picture, and her palms itched for her camera.

_My camera._ There was a slight quickening to Therese’s breathing, and the young woman knew she wouldn’t fall back asleep now.  Perhaps that’s just what was needed on this morning after meeting her siblings.  She had no real words for her emotional state and knew they weren’t the answer.  What she needed was her art, her camera nestled in her hands, the quiet joy of reacquainting herself with this life-long friend.  A gift for her soul.  _Thank you._

She slid from bed, careful not to wake Carol.  The woman had to be exhausted after all the cooking and baking she’d done in the last two days.  Not to mention her presence last night, the extraordinary love that Therese would never find words for.  She smiled at her form, so unspeakably lovely in repose.  _Sleep, love, sleep._

Therese made quick work of her morning grooming and dressing, then tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.  Benny was waiting at the end of the hallway, bringing a smile to her face with his thumping tail and expectant look.  She dropped to her knee to pet him.  “Hey, buddy!   Good morning!  I hope you had a good sleep.  You must have been done in, too.  Bubbles kept you busy, didn’t she?”  The little dog stood like a statue, his eyes closed as he soaked up the ecstatic experience of being fondled behind his ears.  Therese laughed softly.  “You want to go for a walk, Benny?”  The dark eyes flew open, and in an instant, he was running for the nook where the leash was kept.  She chuckled again.

“All I have to do is make coffee for Carol, and then we’re out of here, okay?”  Benny was pacing as Therese headed for the kitchen.  As she prepped the percolator, the thought appeared that she felt different this morning.  It was just a wisp, a fleeting awareness but one she noticed just the same.  As she scribbled a note for Carol and grabbed her camera bag, the young brunette sighed, hearing Alicia’s words and aching for her, for the comfort of her arms.  _Let go, darling.  You don’t need all the answers now.  Let go and trust God.  The way will appear._

Walking down the Manhattan sidewalk with the scampering Benny, Therese sighed again, felt the sting of the cold October air on her face.  _I am letting go, Alicia._   _I am trying to trust God, whatever that_ _means, whoever that is.  But too much is changing!  The wheels are turning too fast and I’m not grown up enough.  I’m not a big girl yet!_ Tears came suddenly, clouding her vision and turning the sidewalk into a muted water color.  She swiped at her running nose with an impatient hand.  _Okay, God…now would be a good time for you to show up._

 

     As they reached Central Park, Therese stopped suddenly.  She could sense them.  _The decorators._ They seemed to spill down on a sunbeam, flowing around her like warm butterscotch or golden honey.  Not doing, not speaking, not solving.  Not even mothering, and she longed to be mothered.  They were just _present,_ bringing her reassurance and strength, the touch of a warm and tender hand on her chilled shoulders.  She nodded her thanks to the quirky duo.  _Thank you._   _Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone._

 

     It was the end of October now, and Central Park seemed to vibrate with autumn’s splendor.  Therese paused, swept away on a wave of beauty she was far too breathless to describe.  The trees appeared to shimmer in the morning sunshine, their colorful leaves dancing in the slight breeze.  “God, Benny, can you believe this?  Look at the colors, boy!” she whispered while the little dog pulled on the leash.  She smiled down at him, loving his little black body, the one white ear that made it seem like the Creator had run out of paint.  “Look around, Benny!  We’re walking on the yellow brick road!”

 

     Therese moved as if in a trance, silenced by the golden splendor, the crimson and russet and red, the bursts of bright yellow and fading green.  She was dying to get her camera out but wanted to get to the lake first.  She loved Central Park Lake and her pulse quickened as she thought of the reflection of the trees on the water.  And Gapstow Bridge with its spectacular view of the city.  The swans.  The egrets.

 

     She tugged at Benny’s leash.  “C’mon, Bens!  We’re almost there now.”  The mutt ran alongside his lovely, dark-haired mistress, his short legs motoring as if he sensed the essence of her awe.   When finally, they reached their destination, Therese found a bench and set her camera bag down.  She pulled a treat out of her pocket, laughing as Benny sat and immediately commenced thumping his tail.  “Who’s the best, most handsome doggie on the planet?”  _Thump, thump._ She laughed again. _“_ Yes, you are!  The man in my life, too, but don’t tell Dannie!  Yes, you earned a treat and time to yourself, young man.”

By the time Benny was tied to a post with an extension rope, the young woman felt her palms might be on fire, so intense was her desire to look through the camera’s lens.She fell into the place of quietude she had come to love, letting her eyes roam and vision speak, her fingers bringing the cool metal to her face where it seemed to warm with its own inner life.

 

     Click, wander, look.  Click, wander, look.  She was lost, and yet completely, utterly found.  She made a lovely sight for anyone who cared to look—a slender young woman with dark hair and serious eyes, moving with a quiet, feline grace and uncommon focus.  She glanced at Benny every few minutes to see him just as absorbed, his black nose happily buried in the carpet of leaves scattered all around.  By the time she eventually returned, the pooch had drowsy eyes.  Therese thought perhaps he was as deeply at peace as she felt.

 

     “Come on, Benny.  Let’s just sit for a few minutes before we head home,” she invited, and he trotted after her obediently.  They sat on a bench beside the lake, and Therese closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.  The stone beneath her thighs was still chilled by the October night, and she was glad for Benny’s small body curled up against her, bringing her warmth.  With her fingers stroking the silken fur, the young woman smiled.  _Thank you, thank you._

She didn’t know why but thought perhaps this was praying.  This quiet look at the magnificent, glorious trees, the shimmering, silver lake in the early morning light with the mist rising like an offering to the heavens.  All around her was change, and she found this wholly consoling.  _I’m not alone._   She studied the leaves, each in the midst of a wild, colorful transformation.  Some let go before her eyes to drift to the ground.  _How do you do it?_   _Are you afraid?_

An old verse came to her then, one that spoke to her as a child at St. Agatha’s.  Being a nature girl, she had thought it was written especially for her: _“I am the vine; you are the branches.  If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit…”_ A lump formed in her throat and her eyes filled with tears.  Somehow, she understood God as a tree.  She understood as a child and understood now.  The connection…the water that ran so freely from trunk to branch, nourishing without question.  All around her the earth was chanting its prayers, and Therese heard them.  She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of a pale hand. 

 

_Okay.  I think I can be a little branch.  I can let my leaves change, let them go…trust what will happen next.  Because I’m not alone.  I’m connected to these great big oaks.  The maples and beech and chestnut._   I am the vine; you are the branches…

 

_Yes!  Please!_

 

_Trust, Therese.  You must trust, darling!  Trust, and let go.  You will be given all the graces you need._

She wanted to hug a tree.  _Okay, God.  I’m frightened.  But I’m still here._

 

                                     

                              ____________________________________________________

“And Peter?  What was he like?” 

 

     Carol took a sip of her coffee, contemplating Abby’s question.  She looked at her best friend, profoundly thankful for this woman who had shown up at their door with wildly unkempt hair and a loaf of fresh bread.  _Abby.  Dear Abby._

 

     “He was very formal.  Very polite, contained,” she responded, a picture of the handsome young man forming in her mind, “except for when he interacted with his sister.”  She smiled at the memory.  “God, Abby!  He dotes on Bubbles!  I got the impression he would willingly die for her, and certainly plans on taking her into his care when he leaves the navy.”

 

     Abby pushed an auburn curl away from her cheek, hesitating.  “That’s a good thing for you and Therese, right?”

 

     Carol didn’t pretend not to understand, her blue gray eyes making direct contact with Abby’s amber gaze.  “We’ve talked here and there.  I don’t think Therese feels obligated to throw open the door to her siblings.  And call me a wench, but I certainly don’t.”  She paused, shaking her head slowly.  “But I would.  It was such a shock to see that her sister is disabled and god, Abby…”  The direct look again.  “She melts your heart.  We’d have to be as cold as stone not to care for the girl.”

 

     The other woman munched on her toast, considering her friend’s words.  “What was Peter like about you and Therese?  Your relationship?”  She took another bite, wary of the answer.  But Carol hadn’t thrown up a shield.  If anything, she looked…hopeful.

 

     “You know how it goes, Abby.  The fear of the backlash and all that crap!  But Peter was…oh, I don’t know.  I wouldn’t say accepting, but certainly not hostile.  And at one point, he seemed to make a veiled inference.”  She stopped, nibbling absentmindedly at her bread, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

 

     “And?” Abby coaxed, trying to keep the note of impatience out of her voice.

 

     “He was talking about being in the navy, meeting people from all parts of the country, different backgrounds and such.  And he said, ‘Bubbles has taught me how to accept differences.’  He had this meaningful look in his eyes, like he was trying to say something.  It was probably my imagination but… _maybe_ …“  She paused, that hopeful expression flickering, wavering in the depths of her eyes like a buoy bobbing in a storm.

 

     Abby held her gaze, her coffee cup halfway to her lips, unwilling to abandon Carol in this raw and vulnerable place she knew so well.  She smiled with tenderness.  “Maybe, doll,” she said softly.  They were still sharing this silent solidarity when Therese and Benny came through the door and the dog raced to the dining room table.

 

     “Hey, champ!  I see you’re still a brute!” Abby commented, and Carol laughed.  “Benny, boy, did you have a good walk?” she asked, stooping to pet him on the head.  Therese rounded the corner next, bringing a blast of chilly air and the scent of autumn in the park.  Her face lit up.

 

     “Hi, Abby!  What brings you by?”  The young woman came to her, dropping a kiss on Abby’s smooth cheek, then taking the few steps toward Carol, kissing and hugging her, breathing in the scent in the nook of her shoulder that she found so irresistible.  She plopped herself in a chair, looking at them both with emerald eyes that just now glistened, a reflecting pool in the depths of the forest.

 

     “I just thought the two of you might need some sustenance after last night, and maybe a friend to talk to,” Abby replied, indicating the loaf of bread on the cutting board.  Therese gave her a smile of gratitude, her dimples shooting out in their trademark quotation marks.  “Abby, you’re a good woman.  Thank you!”

 

     The auburn-haired woman’s look was pointed.  “You okay, honey?  Carol told me all about last night.  It sounded… _loaded.”_

 

     Therese took a deep, cleansing breath, closing her eyes for a moment.  “It _was_ loaded.”  She considered both her companions’ scrutiny, expelling another substantial breath through pursed lips.  “Peter…and Bubbles…and Sabina.  _Jesus.”_ She shook her head, the brunette hair moving in a gentle wave.  But Alicia’s voice broke through her shaky confidence.  _You’ll be given all the graces you need._

She gave them a small smile, as mysterious as it was beautiful.  “But somehow I just know…it’s all going to work out.”  Therese nodded, because she needed to affirm.  “It’s all going to work out.”

 

                                        _________________________________________________

 

 

     Sr. Alicia sat in her room at Pace de Christo, savoring her cup of tea, this Sunday evening time of silent communion in prayer.  Her spirit had been troubled.  She had known about her dear Therese meeting her siblings and their meeting with Sabina.  She didn’t know how any of it had gone but caring so much for Therese, had found herself carrying the entire weekend in her heart of prayer.

 

_But why am I feeling so troubled, Lord?_   She felt a movement inside, a quickening of her heartbeat under the coarse fabric of her tunic.  Oh!  She almost felt a physical pain, clutching at her breast reflexively.  _Lord, her time is coming, isn’t it?  Sabina will change soon; her time is coming._

 

     She hardly knew Sabina, yet the woman’s suffering was palpable. And how dearly Alicia loved Therese!  Taking a deep breath, the old nun closed her eyes for a moment.  The faces of a thousand orphans marched across a screen in her mind, and she understood clearly why.  _The suffering of one is the_ _suffering of all._

 

     Alicia fell deep into prayer, needing this solace, this sustenance.  She had no idea how long she had been sitting in the silence, offering her heart to the Lord.  But when the knock sounded at the door, she wasn’t surprised.  She picked up her cane and hobbled over, opening it to find Sr. Catherine standing there.  Alicia took in the intense look in the nun’s pale blue eyes.  Catherine really didn’t have to speak, but she let her.

 

     “Alicia, dear, I thought you might want to know…Sabina is quiet, but I’m sensing a change.  You know how it is…after a while one just _knows_ …”  Swallowing with some difficulty, Catherine carried on.  “And Francis!  You know how it is with the cats… He won’t leave Sabina’s side.  He’s curled up at the foot of her bed like a little sentry.”  Her voice was soft, yet rich with experience and a deeply moving courage.

 

     “Is she talking, Catherine?”

 

     “Oh, yes!  Still saying thank you more than anything!  And the woman never complains…despite the pain.”  She tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it fluttered between them and vanished.   “Her other daughter?  Therese?  Perhaps you should phone her, just to let her know…”  The sister’s voice faded with so much left unsaid but everything understood nonetheless.

 

     Alicia nodded, taking a deep breath.  _I am with you always, to the end of the age._ The promise filled her consciousness and she reached for Catherine’s hands.  _“_ Pray with me, please? _Come, Holy Spirit, Creator_ _blest, and in our hearts take up Thy rest.  Come with Thy grace and heavenly aid, and fill the hearts which Thou hast made…”_

 

     The two old nuns stood with joined hands, bowed heads, and united hearts.  Hearts united in prayer, filling the empty hallway.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are coming to the end of this story...just a few more chapters, I think.  
> For those of you who are still with me, I cannot even express my gratitude.  
> Whether you know it or not, you are right there with the Spirit, carrying me along.  
> I need you. And I thank you.


	18. 18

     Therese sat examining the photo, one of the many developed at work by a friend of hers who was willing to do a rush job.  It was visually stunning, a scattering of leaves on the path that seemed to shout in glory.  An exultation of color, a splash of the divine on the ground in Central Park.  For some reason her eye was drawn—actually, it felt like a gentle but strong hand had cupped her chin and turned her head-- toward the one leaf that didn’t seem to fit in.

 

     She saw it then, really saw it even as the voice in her head was asking, _what is it that makes us finally see?  What dissipates the fog, dissolves the barriers?  Why now?_ It was a complete mystery, the way her soul was given eyes at this precise moment.  The small leaf in the upper right-hand corner.  The one with the tattered edges, the smattering of gray-black spots on its surface, as if a fungus of some kind had made its home there.  It almost jumped out of the picture, so distinct was its life energy.

 

     The young woman took a deep breath, her face wreathed in a smile, her heart overflowing, because she knew.  She just knew. _You are perfect, little leaf!  You are perfect and whole in this very moment where you offer yourself to the world exactly as you are.  Because how can you be anywhere else?  How can you be like any other leaf?  Life has led you to this very place!  So sing, little one!  Keep singing with all your heart!  You are perfectly whole.  So sing!_

 

      She packed the box now, still thinking about that tattered leaf.  How much it was her, and she was it.  And Sabina!  It was Sabina, too.  Therese knew this was the truth, but it was like the film had yet to develop.  Or there was still a barrier.  _So drop your harsh judgments, darling._ She sat back in the chair, feeling the hard wood against her thin shoulders.  It was those damn decorators, whispering in her ear, butting in again.  _Ah, well, so far you haven’t_ _led me astray…_

 

     She sighed, picking up the marker to write the address for Pace de Christo.  For Sabina.  Halfway through the task, the phone rang.  It was early yet, and Carol was still sleeping on this Sunday morning.  Therese hopped up to answer it before the loud jangling woke her.

 

     “Hello?” she answered, a wariness in her voice.

 

     “Therese dear, it’s Alicia,” came the reply. 

 

     Before she even responded, Therese knew.  _Sabina._   _Something is happening with Sabina._ She sighed heavily, feeling a pang of fear in her belly.“Hi, Alicia.”  She paused, catching her breath and gathering courage.  “It’s Sabina, isn’t it?” 

The old nun didn’t even try to pretend.  “Yes, dear.  She’s…there’s been a change in her condition.”

Before Alicia could continue, the younger woman spoke.  “Is she dying?”  The words were spoken as if on tiptoe, creeping quietly through a darkened room.

Alicia sighed, her heart aching for her dear Therese.  “Well, only the Lord knows that, dear heart.  But she’s in bed almost all the time now, which is a real change.  She’s more withdrawn ever since seeing Peter and Bubbles, that dear child.  And Francis is with her constantly.  He stays curled up beside her, and to Catherine and the rest of the infirmary sisters, he’s a sign.  The cats always seem to know when a person is…preparing to leave.”

Therese again felt that quickening of her spirit, the inner message written so clearly on the retinas of her eyes.  “I want to come up there, Alicia.  I was just boxing up a present for Sabina, something I really want her to have.”  Therese was standing now, pacing in restless circles.  “And I…do you think it would upset her if I came to see her?”

Alicia thought for a moment, her being entering a prayerful state unconsciously.  “I can’t give you that answer.  But I think you should come, anyhow.  I think you should follow your heart, darling.”

A sound caught Therese’s attention.  She turned to see Carol standing there in her old, red tartan robe, a concerned, if sleep-imbued look on her flawless face.  The blue-gray eyes were growing more alert, however, and her eyebrows were raised in question.

 

     “I’d like to come, Alicia.  Today, if possible.  I’ll talk with Carol and let you know.  It’s a long drive, but I can do it.”  The young woman’s emerald eyes shone with a sharp-edged glint of certainty, and she looked at Carol with confidence.  “Okay, dear.  You let me know for sure, though.  I want to know if you’re out on the road,” Alicia coaxed as she rang off.

 

     Therese hung the phone on the wall, looking at Carol wordlessly for a moment.  “It’s my mother,” she said, the words almost startling her.  “Sabina.  She’s changing, according to the sisters.  Not getting out of bed, more withdrawn.”  She twisted her hands around each other, the long fingers moving in restless agitation.  She sat, because for a moment her legs felt too wobbly to hold her up, and Carol did the same, concern written upon her face.

 

     “I’d like to go to Pace de Christo today, Carol,” Therese continued.  “I know I was going to come to Rindy’s play with you, but…”  The movements of her shoulders and facial expressions were a revealing portrait of the young brunette’s inner life.  “I just feel like I have to go there, to see Sabina.  I thought I would just mail her my gift, but it’s not enough.  I’ll feel badly not seeing Rindy, but I know I’ll regret not going to Sabina.”

 

     Carol was shaking her head, her blond curls messy and a few hairs on the crown standing upright at the command of static electricity.  “Darling, don’t worry about Rindy.  She’s six, there’ll be so many more plays for you to come to.”  She shook her head again, a troubled look splayed across her features.  “I think I shouldn’t go either, though.  You can’t make that drive by yourself.”  She shivered.  “And I certainly don’t want you facing all this with Sabina alone!”

 

     But Therese was already shaking her head in clear disagreement.  “No.  You aren’t missing anything for Rindy.”  She stopped when she felt that inner quickening again.  “I’ll be fine.  I _have_ driven there alone, remember?  And yes…I’d rather you were with me, but maybe this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.  I won’t be alone, anyhow.  Alicia is there, and Mary Margaretta…a gaggle of nuns everywhere…”  _The decorators, too.  And…God._

 

     The older woman still looked troubled, and yet she also knew her place today was with Rindy, with her child.  A wave of emotion swept over her, thinking of Therese, and Sabina…and whatever lie ahead.  She came to her, put her hands on Therese’s cool cheeks, tilting her face up and practically pinning the young woman to the wall with the fierce look in her eyes.  “I will come to you in an instant, sweetie.”  Her hands tightened, feeling the delicate curve of Therese’s cheekbones beneath her fingertips, somehow so fragile in this moment, like a tiny bird or a tulip’s stem.  “You must know that!  If you need me, I’ll be there!”  She leaned down and kissed the top of her warm head, but with such energy she tasted the distinct, metallic tang of blood in her mouth from her teeth against her inner lip.

 

    Therese was deeply moved.  She brought her hands up to Carol’s, applying firm pressure meant to reassure.  “I know, Carol.  _I know.”_ A vague smile graced her face then, sweeping across its planes and hollows with quiet beauty.  “I think I’ll be okay, but I’ll let you know if I’m not.  _I promise!”_ Her deep green eyes took on a focused look now.  “I have to get ready.  I need to go soon.”

 

                              _________________________________________________

     She had no idea where the miles went.  The Packard motored along, sometimes on pavement, sometimes kicking up dust on hard-packed, dirt roads gone dry under the autumn sun.  She wished she could enjoy the remnant colors of the trees and the clear, cerulean blue sky.  It seemed vast and embracing, holding the golden-brown fields in tender arms, adding the puffy, cottony white clouds that were always a spark to her childhood imagination.

 

     But the splendor of autumn in upstate New York was lost on her.  Therese’s mind was consumed with thoughts of what lie ahead; her heart yearned for Carol, for what was left behind.  She thought she was probably anxious.  Her hands were damp on the steering wheel; her stomach was churning out dizzying somersaults; her mind raced, sometimes in time with the Packard’s spinning wheels; her mouth had gone dry.

 

     _What am I doing?  Have I lost my mind?  Why am I even going to Sabina?_   The thoughts spun, one after another, creating a restless accompaniment to her silence.  Therese sighed.  Rolled her neck.  Hunched her shoulders.  Licked her lips.  Cracked her knuckles.  Rubbed her temples.  It was her own little symphony of agitation.

 

     And yet, as uncomfortable as the thoughts made her feel, she had no desire to turn around.  Not really.  She was exactly where she was supposed to be at this moment.  Going to Sabina now was her momentary calling, and if it seemed foolish or quixotic, then so be it.  And she truly hoped the sick woman wanted to see her.  If she didn’t, she would deal with that pain somehow.  At the very least, Therese would leave her gift for her mother.  Deep in the marrow of her bones, she knew this was what she was meant to do.  What Sabina did with it was not Therese’s issue.

 

     As she pulled into the long, snaking driveway of Pace de Christo, the young woman felt her heart thumping painfully.  She was so grateful Alicia would be waiting for her, and it was this thought that gave her the courage to drive those last forty feet or so, scattering the fallen leaves into miniature funnel clouds of color.  Leaving the car with the box for Sabina in her arms, Therese thought of the decorators.  It was wishful thinking, perhaps.  _But I_ _need you, ladies._   _Don’t fail me now._

 

     The front door to the convent opened, and Alicia stepped out with a whoosh of her tunic and wave of a hand.  “Therese!  Hello, my dear one.”  The nun bustled up, her face curved into a warm smile.  The deep blue eyes held a discerning look, and she clucked her tongue, pulling the brunette into her embrace.  “I’m so glad to see you, darling.  But you look all wrung out!  What a long drive for you…”  Her voice was so tender and reassuring that Therese felt the tears come immediately, spilling down her cheeks and onto Alicia’s matronly bosom. The scent of her powder, the plump, soft arms, the gentle humming…

 

     “You’re the only mother I’ve ever known!” Therese whispered, her voice choked with tears.

 

     Alicia felt her own tears come.  She held the young woman away from her, a benevolent smile on her face.  “Yes, dear, I know.  And you are my own.”  Her eyes closed momentarily, and when she opened them Therese saw wisdom in the watery blue depths.  The nun tightened her arms.  “We’ve been blessed, Therese,” she observed, “God has blessed us!”

 

     For whatever reason, Therese felt herself calming.  She took a shuddered breath, offering a brave smile and a nod. “Yes.  We’re blessed.”  But whatever bravery she felt was faltering like a newborn foal on wobbly legs.  Alicia sensed this and tightened her arms again.  With a piercing look, she responded, “Whatever happens here, you won’t be alone!  I’ll be close by…wherever you need me to be.  And the infirmary nuns are all praying!  They are all your sisters now, darling.  And the Lord is so close I can feel his breath!”  She smiled again, almost in triumph.

 

     “Come on now.  Let’s go find Sabina, okay?”

 

                                   _________________________________________________

 

     Carol sat at Rindy’s fall play feeling profoundly guilty.  Usually, she was so deprived of time with her daughter that she squeezed the life out of each moment together.  Today, she found it thrilling to be here; her heart was blooming with motherly pride.  There was relief, too, and gratitude.  She and Harge had managed to learn to treat each other with civility, at least most of the time, and to put Rindy first.  The invitation to this event on “his” Sunday was proof.  That she could be sitting here, with Harge and his mother, waiting to watch her little daughter come out to recite her lines… _It took too long, Harge, but I’ll_ _take it._

 

     And yet, the beautiful blond knew she was only partly here.  Thoughts of Therese and Sabina came frequently.  She could almost feel the beat of Therese’s heart, and every few minutes her delicate but determined features appeared on the little stage, too.  Carol wanted to be here, with Rindy.  But she longed to be at Therese’s side with all of her being.

 

_I’m thinking of you, darling…praying for you…I wonder, can you feel the strength of my love right now?  The way my being longs to be with you, to support and comfort you?  To be your shield should you need one?  To patch you up should your heart start to bleed?_

She shuffled her long legs about, feeling cramped and constricted.  Feeling guilty.  Feeling worried.  Feeling love.

                                                   

                                _________________________________________________

 

     Therese sat in the waiting area of the Pace de Christo infirmary wing, clutching the box for Sabina on her lap, her tense fingers looking pale and somehow fragile.  The space consisted of a mere three upholstered chairs, a side table that held magazines and prayer books, and a lamp.  A worn, dark gray carpet lay atop the linoleum floor, and though it had seen better days, it was clean and vacuumed.  The walls were painted a soothing, pale green and held paintings of various saints.  Therese recognized St. Francis, with his joyous countenance and a horde of animals around him.  The rest of the saints, whomever they were, looked pious and terribly serious to her eyes, all with an air of suffering hovering around them.  She stared at the pictures, convinced only that she had no desire to become a saint.

 

     It seemed forever, but perhaps had only been a few minutes, until Alicia returned.  The old nun announced herself with the muted thump of her cane and whispered brush of her skirt against her legs.  The closer she came, the harder Therese’s heart pounded, until she felt for certain it banged directly against her eardrums.

 

     Alicia’s cherubic face held a gentle, reassuring smile, and she sat beside her young friend with a satisfied exhale.  Therese thought it indicated something positive, and she grabbed for the sister’s weathered hand.  “Alicia?  How did she…what did Sabina say?”  She felt impatient, wanting to reach inside Alicia’s mind and siphon its entire contents.

 

     Alicia responded without further prompting.  “Darling, Sabina seemed very surprised that you’re here, wanting to see her.  Maybe a little scared?”  She shook her head, her lips pursed in concentration.  “I don’t know for sure, Therese.  But she definitely wants you to come back.”  She smiled, and her plump red cheeks reached for her eyebrows.  “Now, tell me what you need, dear.  She’s in room sixteen, the last one on the right.  It’s quiet there…with a good view of the gardens.  Anyhow, do you want me to walk you down the hall?  Come in with you?  Stay here and mind my own business?”

 

     Therese had one of those rare moments in her young life when the answer was crystal clear, as if God had hired a plane to write the answer in the sky.  She nodded, affirming what was rising within.  “I do know.  Please…just say a prayer for us, for me…”  She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.  “This is mine to do, alone.  This is for Sabina and me…for my mother...for me…”  Her green eyes clouded as her voice trailed away.  She offered a brave but shaky smile.  “I have no idea what I’ll say or how she’ll receive it--or me--but…”  She took another breath, squaring her shoulders.  “I’ll go to her now.  Pray, please.  Pray for us both.”

 

     Alicia felt an ache in her heart space like she’d never experienced before, an amalgam of love, tenderness, and fierce pride that took her breath away.  Her deep blue eyes welled with tears.  “I’m praying already, my dear.   Go to Sabina.  _Deus tecum._ ”  As she watched Therese turn to go, the nun whispered the words she had prayed countless times, with hands clasped on her lap: _Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison.  Kyrie eleison_ , _Christe eleison._

 

     Therese walked down the hallway, conscious of the muted thud of her low heels on the tiles, the crunch of the paper-wrapped parcel in her arms, her banging heart, her pulsating temples.  There were other family members in the hall, and nuns moving quietly from room to room with medicine carts and trays of empty dinnerware and uneaten food.  But it was as if none of this existed, as if it was only her and Sabina, and this time they would claim as their own.

 

_Please, God.  Just…please._

It was a simple prayer, but it was all she had to offer.  She stopped outside the door of room sixteen, peering in and taking a deep breath.  Sabina lay propped up in a hospital bed, her face turned away, staring out the window.  The woman looked impossibly thin to Therese, a frail wisp of thing who had shrunken in the months since they had met at the boarding house.  The bedclothes were white, lending a frightening air of sterility, and for some reason Therese found herself relieved that her mother’s nightgown was a pleasingly printed, blue cotton thing and that the quilt across her legs was woven in warm earth-tones.  Much to her delight, she spotted Francis by Sabina’s side.  The little cat looked to have grown, but was still a small, fluffy gray fur ball curled up and peacefully snoozing.

 

     Therese smiled despite herself, coming into the room with quiet footsteps.  “I see you have a friend.”  She didn’t come too close to Sabina’s bed and had no idea why.  It was more than a few moments until her mother turned from the window to look at Therese.  If her hands weren’t holding her package, the younger woman would have clutched at her chest.

 

     _My god, what’s happened to you?_   A part of her wanted to cry out at the painful picture painted before her.  Sabina’s face was so thin her cheek and brow bones looked like protruding tree branches, the hollows of her face like deeply shadowed pits.  Her skin tone was an almost frightening yellow-gray, her eyes dim and watery.  Though her hair was clean and combed, it hung in limp strands framing a face that held an expression of fear and regret.

 

     But Sabina attempted to smile.  “Francis is my buddy,” she responded, her voice weak and hard to hear.  “He doesn’t seem to want to leave my side, and I’m the lucky one.”  Her boney hand stroked the cat, fondling his velvety ears until he wiggled about.  He unwound his gray body, which was surprisingly long by now, stretching his front and back legs and letting go a huge yawn.  Despite the circumstances, both women were enchanted and watched Francis’s movements until he settled himself against Sabina’s leg again, having completed his serene sleep dance without opening his eyes even for a moment.

 

     It was quiet then, and Sabina kept her head down.  Therese stood with much uncertainty, feeling mute and helpless.  She wished her mother would look at her, but when she didn’t the young woman let her eyes move around the room.  It was simply furnished, with the requisite painting of St. Francis on one wall.  Her eyes came to a halt when they spotted the other painting—a large hand, surrounded by a white mist.  It was cupping a beautiful bluebird in its ample palm with what Therese could clearly see was care and tenderness.  There was a verse from Isaiah written below in flowing calligraphy: _I will never_ _forget you!  I have carved you on the palm of my hand._

 

     Therese didn’t know why, but the picture and verse brought immediate tears to her eyes.  A lump formed in her throat and the most unexpected warmth flooded her chest.  With closed eyes, she reveled in the heat which now seemed to course through her entire body, leaving her quietly pulsating, flushed and filled. 

 

     _I’m not alone!_ She didn’t know _what_ was in the room, but it felt warm and alive and loving.  Strength and peace filled Therese’s being; and courage thrummed in her veins with a crescendo that made her feel she could levitate.  _Ah, thank you.  Thank you, thank_ _you, thank you!_

 

     She stepped closer to Sabina’s bed, determined, though the sick woman still hadn’t raised her eyes.  Therese reached out a hand to stroke Francis, loving his softness.  “Sabina?  I have something I wanted to give you.”  Her words were met with a silence that seemed to stretch endlessly, and she was about to place the box at Sabina’s side and leave when her mother raised her eyes, finally.  It was a broken look, a hopeless one.  “You shouldn’t give me anything, Therese.  I don’t deserve a gift from you.”

 

     “It doesn’t matter.”  The awareness came only with the words.  “It’s not about…deserving.  It’s because I want to.  I want you to have this.”  The younger woman felt her certainty sink its roots even deeper.  It made her feel free.

 

     Sabina was looking down again, fiddling with the edges of her quilt, running a yellowed fingernail along the threads.  She licked her dry lips, looking around for water.  Therese went to the bedside table and poured a cup, handing it to the sick woman, her heart clutching at her frailty.  After a sip, Sabina spoke.  “You…seeing you…”  She stopped with a sigh.  When her eyes clouded with tears, she pulled her gaze away again, peering out the window where squirrels were chasing each other across the convent’s browning lawn.

 

     “It’s the end of my life now,” she whispered in haunted tones, “and seeing you… You’ve made something amazing of yourself!  I’m so happy for you, Therese.  But…”  She winced as a shaft of pain shot through her abdomen.  “…seeing you.  I can’t escape the weight of my sins.”  Sabina looked directly at her daughter now, searching for courage.  “ _God help me_.  You remind me of my sins!”

 

     The words were piercing to hear, and Therese flinched as if she’d been struck.  She wanted to turn and run, before it got worse, but something made her stand there, returning her mother’s gaze with quiet strength.  _I’m okay.  I’m okay.  I’m okay._ And she realized she was.  Very okay, and more.

 

     “You were the sweetest child, Therese,” the older woman softly offered.  “Beautiful and sweet and loving… So sweet.  And I was…”

 

     Therese was staring at the crucifix which hung so austerely on the wall.  The Catholic cross always held the twisted, suffering body of Christ that had so upset her as a child.  It upset her now, too, but it spoke to her.  There didn’t seem to be much difference between Jesus, crying out in agony, and her mother, who lay shrunken and pathetic and broken in the bed before her.    

 

     “You were enough.”  Therese stated, so boldly she shocked both herself and Sabina.  And by god, it was true, wasn’t it?  Because her mother had done the very best she could, plowing through life with her own wounds, her own darkness and inadequacies.  Therese took another step closer, placed a warm hand upon Sabina’s cold, bony one.  “You were enough, Sabina!”  She paused as awareness swept over her again.  “And so was I.  I was enough.  _I am enough.”_   Therese had a quick flash, an image of a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.  Shedding the dark space.

 

    The sick woman stared at her silently for a few moments.  “You’re very kind,” she whispered, but Therese was shaking her head as images of her adolescent self being cruel to Alicia appeared upon the movie reel in her mind; Alicia who had always been goodness; who was probably still sitting in the waiting area with rosary beads wrapped around her hands.  She took a deep breath.  “Only sometimes, Sabina.  I’m not perfect.  Neither are you.”

 

     The warm love in the room was growing even warmer, emanating now.  Therese stared at her mother, who didn’t look quite as sallow.  Then she lifted her package from where it lay on the bed.  “I don’t know you, Sabina.  We never had that chance…we won’t get it, but…”  She swallowed with difficulty, deeply saddened by the cruel finality of death. Therese breathed in deeply, reaching for whatever it was in this room that was Bigger Than Herself.  She noticed Francis was awake, staring at her with sleepy, serene eyes.  He gave her comfort.

 

     “Here, open this.  Please.  You never knew me.”  Therese shrugged, feeling shy.  “But this is who I’ve grown up to be, Sabina.  I wanted you to know.” 

 

     The older woman unwrapped the package, her bony hands shaking with exertion, the brown paper crackling, somehow too loud, like tiny explosions in the quiet room.  Sabina’s eyes filled with tears when she finally held Therese’s gift in her hands.  “Your photos,” she whispered, running her fingers over the album cover tenderly.  A tear ran down her cheek.  She sniffled, shaking her head, and was silent for many moments.  “ _Thank you._ ”  Her hands still stroked the album, perhaps in wonderment or reverence or both.  It was a sip from her very own Holy Grail, and she had no words…

 

     Sabina looked at Therese, now with a spark of life in her tired eyes.  “Thank you, Therese.  I don’t deserve this.”  She shook her head, then smiled for the very first time.  “Alicia raised you right.”  Therese heard wonder in her mother’s voice, and perhaps gratitude, too.

 

     “Alicia,” Therese replied, “is a walking miracle.  I couldn’t have been left in better hands.”  She stopped to stroke Francis, who picked that moment to leap into her surprised arms in one graceful movement.  She laughed, burying her face in his soft fur as he attempted to crawl up her neck.  “Francis!  Hi, buddy!  I hear you have a home here now.  We miss you!  Kind of.”  She chuckled again, reveling in the kitten’s love purrs all around her face.

 

     “Therese?  I have to close my eyes now,” Sabina explained, wincing as she rearranged her shoulders.  Therese nodded.  The woman’s discomfort and exhaustion were painfully obvious.  “But can you—” She stopped, shaking her head slightly.

 

     “Can I what, Sabina?”  Francis has settled himself in Therese’s arms now, his body warm and solid against her heart.

 

     Sabina made eye contact, a stricken look in her eyes.  “Can you sit with me?  Just for a few minutes?”  She had the photo album clutched to her chest, her thin arms wrapped around it.  Her head had already fallen back against the pillows, and she closed her eyes, unable to keep them open long enough to hear Therese’s reply.

 

     “Of course,” Therese whispered, knowing full well her mother had drifted away, the frightful demands of her illness taking their toll.  She sat in the silence, staring at her, wishing she could relieve her suffering, feeling helpless.

 

She closed her eyes, feeling thankful but oh, so exhausted.  Francis was warm in her lap and deeply comforting.  Therese opened her sleepy eyes with effort, and once again her gaze fell on the large, loving hand in the painting, holding the bluebird.  She stared at it until her vision blurred, breathing deeply.  _I will never forget you._ It made her smile.

 

     At some point, she felt a hand slip around her own, opening her eyes to see Alicia sitting beside her.  The dear woman smiled serenely, leaning over to kiss Therese’s cheek, her blue eyes deep with love.  They sat in the silence, holding hands.

 

     Somehow, it was more than enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, for caring about these dear characters.  
> I hope you are all well...I pray for all who are suffering...I'm sending you much lovingkindness.  
> I hope your Thanksgiving will be blessed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been trying to make the best of grief and am just beginning  
> to allow it to make the best of me.  
> Barbara Lazear Asher
> 
> Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness.  
> Paul Tillich
> 
> One always learns one's mystery   
> at the price of one's innocence.  
> Robertson Davies
> 
> If there is a gift in exchange for our losses  
> it is a new, constant state of cherishing.  
> Stephanie Ericsson

 

     Therese arrived home at 9pm that evening.  She was so physically spent and emotionally exhausted she could barely stand upright, much less speak.  A fretting Carol greeted her with a hug and a worried look.  A cup of hot chocolate followed soon thereafter.  The younger woman would have loved a warm bath and long talk with Carol but was far too tired for either.  Instead, she changed into her pajamas and took care of her evening grooming tasks.  With an apologetic kiss for her girlfriend, she crawled into bed and fell almost instantaneously into a deep sleep.

 

     Therese slept for twelve hours.  This included not hearing her alarm clock despite its loud, persistent ringing that announced the beginning of a chilly November Monday.  It roused Carol, however, who didn’t think twice about calling Therese in sick.  The _Times_ would survive without her for a day, and that was that.  She also called Abby, asking her if she minded covering the store on her own for half a day.  Her affirmative answer left Carol exactly where she was now, bustling happily about the kitchen as she baked banana bread.

 

     It was mid-morning before Therese opened her eyes.  She looked up at the patterned ceiling, contemplating the designs with a yawn, her slender arms stretched aimlessly above her.  She heard the distinct sound of Carol puttering around in the kitchen, and if she wasn’t mistaken her twitching nostrils were catching the scent of _something_ delectable.  It was enough to galvanize her into action.

 

     A few minutes later, the young woman emerged from the bedroom wrapped in an old robe, with thick, wool socks on her feet.  Carol was standing at the oven, one hand on the handle and the other checking her watch.  As soon as she saw Therese, a tender smile graced her features.  “Darling!  You’re awake!” she exclaimed, pleasure making her blue-gray eyes crackle with life.

 

     Therese felt her throat thicken with emotion and padded over to Carol, slipping her arms around her waist and clutching tightly.  With eyes closed, she lay her cheek against the woman’s heart and sighed.  _This.  Just this.  Just you._   She had longed for Carol much of yesterday, ached for this very embrace.  She sighed again, swallowing over the lump in her throat and trying not to weep.  She had done quite enough of that on her drive home and her head still felt full.  This moment was for savoring.  _And saying thanks._

 

     Carol’s eyes were closed, too.  The scent of Therese, warm and rumpled and sleepy still, was an elixir, a fine fragrance that enticed and enthralled.  She kissed the top of her head, knowing she would gladly do this very thing a hundred years from now, and then ever more.  She took another breath, kissed her head again.  “Mm…you are just the thing, sweetheart.  _Just the thing!”_ Leaning back, she placed a hand beneath the younger woman’s chin, cupping it with gentle fingers.  “I need to take this banana bread out of the oven.  And then we can sit, and you can tell me everything.  Finally!”

 

     Therese smiled, stepping back, tilting her head and watching her with a discerning eye.  “Baking is how you say I love you, isn’t it?”  Carol put the bread on a cooling rack, turning back to Therese with a flushed face and twinkling eyes.  She reached out and drew the younger woman into her arms, kissing her lips gently once, then again.  “Yes, sweetheart,” she breathed, “it’s certainly one of the ways.”  She kissed her again, then put a hand on the back of the brunette head and pulled it into the crook of her shoulder so she could just hold the young woman for a moment.

 

     “Come on.  Let’s have coffee and sit and you can tell me all about yesterday,” Carol directed, and Therese smiled.  Her lips twisted into an ironic grin.  “And work?” she asked, with evidence of her inner imp in her tone.

 

     The tall blond could barely contain her laughter.  “Oh, darling, you’re looking terribly flushed with fever!”  They both laughed, and it was just the release Therese needed.  She had felt far too much stress in the last twenty-four hours, been far too grown up, been far too close to death.  Giggling like a schoolgirl was just the remedy for the sorrow that had been lodged in her heart like a splinter.

 

     Over rich, aromatic coffee and warm banana bread slathered with fresh butter, Therese shared the story of her visit with Sabina.  It was not easily spoken of, and her words were often halted, sometimes haunted by the image of her mother’s dying body—sallow, emaciated, depleted.  Carol listened closely, feeling proud and helpless.  She reached across the breakfast table several times to clutch Therese’s hand.  Finally, the distance seemed to great.

 

     “Let’s sit on the sofa now, okay?  We can clean this up later.  I need to…” She stopped, pulling the younger woman gently to her feet, tugging her hand in the direction of the living room.  “I want to be able to touch you, sweetheart.”  Therese sat at an angle to Carol, so she could see her eyes and feel the emanating warmth of her long, lean body.  She paused to collect her thoughts, reaching a hand out for Carol’s.

 

     “I wanted you with me so much, Carol.  Maybe not…in the room with me.”  She shrugged, her emerald eyes rich with remembrance.  “That time needed to be for Sabina and me, alone.  But I wanted you outside the door, or in the sitting area with Alicia and Mary Margaretta.”  She smiled as she thought of the nuns who had sat with hands clasped, two fervent prayer warriors on the front lines.

 

     “I would have given anything…” Carol replied, but the younger woman shook her head.  “No, you were where you should have been.  I’m so happy you could be with Rindy!  I think,” Therese murmured, almost to herself, “everything was as it should have been.”  She squeezed Carol’s hand, and a flame leapt in the green depths of her eyes, a shaft of sunlight on a forest pond.

 

     “Carol, something happened in that room.  I don’t know what it was…but it was not something that came from me.”  Therese shook her head, the silky, brunette hair brushing her pale cheek in a wave.  “It’s like love was vibrating!   I mean, not my love.  A bigger love!  God’s love, I suppose.  And it lifted me…filled me.  Made me stronger than I am.  Maybe stronger than I’ve ever been.”

 

     Carol caught her breath at the simmering glow on Therese’s face now.  She didn’t think she’d ever seen her look more beautiful.  Her slender frame seemed to be quivering, as if a part of her was taking flight.

 

     “It came just when I needed it,” Therese continued, “because it was _so hard_ being there.  I wanted to turn and run so many times…the losses felt so…I don’t know.  Almost tragic, in a way.”  She waved her hands in efforts to say what she wasn’t sure she had words for, and Carol reached over and put a reassuring hand on her knee.  “Sabina’s dying, Carol.  I keep expecting the phone to ring…the call to come… because I could see her life ebbing away…and whether I knew her well or not…it’s _so sad_ …”

 

     All of a sudden, Therese could say no more.  She looked at Carol, a young woman composed of strength and frailty in the very same instant.  “I just…”  She moved an inch or two closer to the lanky blond.  “Will you just hold me, please?”  Carol had been aching to do so for the last hour or so, and now she opened her arms wide, scooting back against the corner of the sofa.

 

     “Come here, darling,” she invited, her sonorous voice barely containing itself.  Therese moved into Carol’s arms with the relief and gratitude of a pilgrim who had walked long and dusty miles.  “Oh, god, you feel so good here, Therese!  I’ve been _aching_ to touch you, to comfort you…”  Tears sprang to Carol’s eyes, and her throat grew thick with emotion.  _The warmth of this embrace._

Therese lay with her head on Carol’s chest, breathing her in, falling into the quiet embrace without defense.  She was silent, letting the comfort seep into her being, filled with wordless gratitude.  They stayed that way for a long time, until eventually, she shook her head.  “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”  She paused, searching for words again.  “To have this…to have you to come home to… I’m so lucky.”  Carol cupped a hand beneath her chin, forcing Therese to look up at her.

 

     “You are _not_ lucky, sweetheart.  _You’re deserving!”_ she said with passion, becoming aware of the thump of their heartbeats, the thrumming depth of her feelings.  Her eyes searched the smooth, pale face beneath her, wanting to expunge any lingering doubts she might find.  They dropped to Therese’s lips, and then Carol couldn’t help herself.  Her head swooped down, taking Therese’s lips in a commanding kiss, one meant to convince.  The younger woman’s passion flared despite her mellowed exhaustion.  She moaned, opening her mouth, shivering when Carol’s tongue shot into the moist warmth.  Their tongues danced together expertly, arousal climbing.

 

     Therese moaned again, and Carol brought their foreheads together while they both gasped for air.  She kissed her cheeks, her chin, her eyes, and her temples, where she paused to whisper, “Sweetheart, do you want me to stop?  I know you must be exhausted…”  She wondered if her voice could even be heard above the pulse that thundered at her temples and hammered at the base of her flushed throat.  But Therese was shaking her head even before Carol finished speaking.

 

     “No!” she breathed, aghast at the very thought.  “No, please…”  Her hands clutched at the lapels of Carol’s blouse, eyes dark with need.  “This…you…it’s exactly what I need.”  Carol’s already smoldering desire caught fire then.  Her lips came down unerringly, and she felt Therese’s desire rising to meet her own.  The younger woman moved restlessly in her arms, attempting to pivot her body so she could touch and see more of her lover.  Finally, she accomplished her task and swung a bare leg over Carol’s lap, so she could gaze directly at her.  They were both flushed and panting, with wild eyes and swollen lips, and Therese seemed to glory at the vision Carol made.  She brought shaking hands to her face, unable to look away.

 

     “You’re so beautiful!  Just so beautiful!” she whispered, bringing her face to the crease of Carol’s neck where her scent was permeating on waves of heat.  She breathed her in, loving that which was distinctly Carol, and only Carol.  The blond ached to see more of her young lover.  She found the sash to her robe and pushed it from her slender shoulders, running her hands from Therese’s wrists, to her shoulders, and back again with fingertips meant to tantalize and pleasure.  Two firm, upright breasts were perched at eye level, and Carol thought she would die if she had to go another moment without touching the pale skin, the dusky rose nipples.

 

     When her hands palpated the soft flesh, then circled the turgid nipples, Therese moaned so loudly Benny barked from his bed, where he’d been fast asleep only moments ago.  But the beloved pooch was ignored as Carol seized a nipple between her teeth and Therese moaned again.  Her head fell back as her senses swam, and she just wanted to let go…to just let go…

 

     Tears came with the titillation, because there was life and then there is death and oh, it felt _so good_ to be alive.  “Carol,” she croaked, and the older woman kissed away the silver-white tears, tasting the sting of salt on her tongue.  She never had gotten used to it, always felt awed at the way this beautiful woman would weep when they made love.  It stunned her even now, the depth of her feeling, the strength of Therese’s lithe body and the fragility of her heart held in Carol’s outstretched hand.

 

     “Are you sure you’re okay?” she whispered brokenly, deeply moved by Therese’s naked beauty, both physically and emotionally.  But she only nodded, grasping Carol’s hand and placing it on her womb.  And so began their sensual dance, Therese moving erotically and Carol’s fingers moving ever deeper, her lips and tongue sliding over creamy skin that felt like silk and smelled like late summer.  Carol was lost, too, in sensation, riding this wave of arousal that intensified as Therese succeeded in getting her blouse off, in caressing her skin, her breasts, with warm hands and tongue and lips.

 

     “Oh, Carol, that feels so good,” Therese groaned out, feeling herself rising now, rising on this current, this wave of swirling ecstasy.  “Mm-hmm,” Carol murmured, completely enthralled, lost in this woman, this dance, this moment, the sound and scent and sight of her.

 

     When Therese climaxed, she cried out, overwhelmed with joy and sorrow and love and loss, with wholeness and brokenness and beginnings and endings.  She collapsed in Carol’s arms, pulsating with an awareness so profound it shook her to her core.

 

     “Oh Carol,” she whispered, “ _it’s so good to be alive.”_

 

 

                                      __________________________________________________

 

     At Pace de Christo, Sabina lingered for several days. She lay in bed with Therese’s album open, pouring over the photographs endlessly, showing them to any sister that entered her room.  Francis never left her side, and Sr. Catherine knew the time was drawing near.  She spent extra time with Sabina, holding her hand and praying with her.  Alicia came, too, sitting in silence as Sabina slept, deep in prayer, asking her Lord to come take Sabina home.

 

     The phone rang very early on Thursday morning, when Carol and Therese were having coffee and eating toast.  They both knew immediately, and Therese looked at Carol with stricken eyes.  Carol reached for her hand.  “Do you want me to get that, sweetheart?”

 

     Therese nodded, mute with thanks, because she had been so strong, but in this moment just wanted to put her head down and weep.  She listened to Carol’s end of the conversation, the soft, serious tone of her voice, unable to form a thought, somehow suspended in this place she never imagined she’d be.  She put her head on Carol’s shoulder, felt the long arms embrace her and hold her close.

 

     Carol kissed the top of her head, took a deep breath.  “Sabina’s passed, darling.”  She held her even tighter.

 

     “I know, Carol,” Therese whispered, “I know.”

 

     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remain deeply thankful to you for reading this, for remaining such good friends to these characters,  
> to this author. We've only a few more steps take, dear hearts! My heart is warm with love.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, (those of you who are left!)  
> I want to apologize that it's taken so long for me to post this chapter. November and December are very, very busy months in my profession. Between the demands of work and managing family and chronic illness, there just has been no energy left in me on so many days!  
> I've been determined to finish this story, and with God's good grace, I think I will! Only one chapter left after this one...
> 
> Know I post this today with much thanksgiving for all the gifts in my life, including YOU, and with warmest Christmas wishes for all who celebrate this holiday. I hope you all are blessed.
> 
>  
> 
> You will show me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy. Psalm 16:11

 

     Therese picked the phone up on its third ring, overcoming her resistance to speaking to anyone.  It had been a very long work day, and she was tired.  She was behind on her assignments, too, due to the time off she’d had recently.  People might die, but oh, how life went on, and its stresses currently felt like they were resting directly between her shoulder blades.

 

     She grabbed for the receiver before it could jar her nerves any longer.  “Hello?”

 

     “Therese?  Hello dear, it’s Elaine Hartsell.  How are you?”

 

     The slender brunette smiled, the warm timber of her friend’s voice sending a wave of solace coursing through her.  “Elaine!  How nice to hear your voice!  How are you?”  Her reply was replete with genuine pleasure, and she settled herself on the sofa, welcoming this unexpected respite.

 

     “Oh, darling…I’m well, thank you!  It’s _you_ I’m concerned about.  Alicia told me about Sabina’s passing and I’m calling because…”  The older woman paused, hating these condolence calls that could so often seem forced and contrived, though her feelings were anything but.  “…because I really care about you and I want you to know that.”

 

     Therese felt warmth wash over her weariness and swallowed over the tightness in her throat.  “Elaine,” she sighed, “that’s so nice to hear.”  She paused, uncertain of her own words.  “It’s been so many things!  Sad and regretful and relieving.”  She took a deep breath, her eyes closed against the tumult of emotions.  “But just so sad, most of all.  Even if Sabina was not a big part of my life…she suffered.  She died so young.  She was my mother.  And Bubbles and Peter have no one now.”

 

     Elaine’s heart was flooded with a compassionate understanding.  “I know.  I’m so sorry, dear.  For all of it.”  She paused for a moment as an image of her dear Maggie emerged from a precious pocket of memory.  “In my own way, I understand… It’s a helpless thing…we do what we can…”  Squaring her shoulders, she forged ahead.  “Alicia tells me Sabina’s to be buried here on Long Island, yes?”

 

     “Yes.  Apparently, it’s where her parents settled and are buried.”  Therese shook her head.  _After all_ _these years, I have grandparents._ The knowledge shook her once again.  _And they’re dead._

 

     “One of the reasons I’m calling,” Elaine interjected, “is that I want you all to come here after the burial.”  Her voice was firm, resolute.  “Please!  Come here to my home, all of you.  We’ll have soup and good bread.  And wine and whiskey!  Maybe you can figure out a way to tote Benny here, and Sparky and him can pal around for a while.”  She smiled at the thought of the two dogs frolicking.  “Please?  Say yes, Therese!”

 

     But the younger woman was already nodding.  She thought of the ocean, of the endless waves of the Atlantic, their hypnotic beauty.  Her shoulders sagged with relief.  “Elaine, you’re a gift.  Yes!”  She smiled.  “Yes, that sounds wonderful!  I’d love to come, and I have a feeling the rest of us will, too.”

 

     Therese still had a soft smile on her face as she rang off.  She sat back, leaning her head against the sofa cushion, exhaling as she did so.  She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.  Again.  She caught herself doing so frequently, and knew she’s been doing it for months.  _Holding my breath, waiting for the next shoe to drop, the next bomb to explode._

And yet, here was Elaine calling, reaching out so lovingly and expressing the desire to ease her burden.  This kept happening, too.  Even in her most begrudging, self-pitying moments, Therese had to admit she was being taken care of.  _Guided.  Embraced._   She stared at the wall opposite her.  The subtle, bamboo green undertones of the paint soothed her, emanating a warm, hopeful energy.  It was exactly what she and Carol had hoped for when they’d picked the color, and she sighed with gratitude.

 

Therese smiled, thinking of the decorators.Those two!  She thought they might be here now, hovering about as she often felt they were.  Last night, she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep with Carol’s sweet, comforting kisses lingering on her forehead.  She’d had the most wonderful dream and no time to sit with it.  Instead, she’d hurried out the door to work, carrying the images in her solar plexus like a warming fire.  _That lush, dense, green garden.  The trees, the shrubs, the flowers of every color, bursting in their richest hues.  Walking along the soft, spongy path as if pillows of air buffeted her feet.  The decorators leading her on with smiling faces and lighted eyes.  This way, they waved merrily.  Keep walking this way, Therese.  She had no idea where they were leading her, and god knows they weren’t telling.  She thought perhaps a hundred songbirds were singing the same song; simple words to that lilting, avian melody: **Let go, let go.  And love, and love…**_

_The decorators looked back every now and then.  The tall one with her long hair flying and the little one with her vibrating smile.  They kept inviting, inviting.  And Therese kept following, and there was the sweet, intoxicating scent of fruit in the air, and lemons and limes hanging bright like gemstones from the trees…and a nest that held two perfect bluebirds, a splash of orange and blue…_

“Therese?”  She felt a hand on her arm, shaking gently.  “Therese?  Where are you, darling?”  She turned her head and saw Carol, her face framed by a golden halo of curls, a concerned look in the deep blue gray eyes.  Therese blinked several times, pushing away the enticing images from her dream.  She smiled. 

“Oh, hello,” she murmured, overcome by a sudden wave of shyness, “I was just…”  She shook her head, bringing a hand up to sweep the soft, brunette hair from her forehead, offering a smile of whimsy. “Lost in my thoughts, Carol!  Good ones, though!”  She leaned over and placed a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.  “How are you?”

 

     Benny picked that moment to come padding into the room, eyeballing his mistresses with a cocked head, his one white ear twitching with awareness.  _They’re home!_ He jumped with surprising grace for one attempting to scale such relatively lofty heights, landing on the sofa and immediately walking his way into Therese’s lap.

“Hi, Benny!  How are you, boy?”  She scratched behind his ears with both hands.  The mutt had his head down as if he was being massaged by Venus herself.  “Up on the couch again, I see.” 

 

     Carol shook her head.  “You know we’ve lost this battle, don’t you?  He couldn’t care less about the rules!  There’s always black hair on my skirts.”  The two women shared a laugh, and it was a relief.  Times had been heavy lately.  Thank heavens for dogs that soothed the world away.  The blond eyed her partner with a discerning eye.  “How are you, darling?”

Therese took a deep breath, continuing her canine massage to an obviously grateful Benny.  “You know, I’m okay.  I still don’t know what day it is half the time, but I’m making my way.”  She placed a hand on Carol’s forearm.“And guess what?  I just got off the phone with Elaine Hartsell.”

“Elaine!  How is she?”  Carol was rubbing Benny’s flanks with tender fingertips, and the dog arranged himself in Therese’s lap with such brazen command that both women smiled in defeat.  “She sounds fine, really.  And so kind, Carol!  She called to invite us to come to her house after Sabina’s burial.”

 

    The older woman went still, the look in her eyes inquiring.  “You’re right, darling _.  So kind._ And…do you want to go?  Do you think it’s a good idea?”  Her voice was deep, husky, and quiet.  Therese found herself soothed.  “Oh, yes, of course.  I don’t have to think twice about it!  We’ve spent so many healing times there,” she replied, with images of the ocean, the pines, and Benny and Sparky frolicking in the waves filling her head.  She paused.  “Don’t you think?”

Carol’s answering nod came without hesitation.  “Yes…the very best times.”  She smiled, picturing Sparky and Elaine, and always, Alicia.  With a whiskey in her hand and round, red cheeks!  It wasn’t hard to remember the tangy scent of the ocean in the air, or feel the wind whipping ashore off the silver-white waves.  The thought of going back there was so inviting.

Therese fidgeted as a fleeting moment of discomfort came and went.  She rearranged her shoulders.  “The only thing that makes me a little… _uncomfortable_ is thinking about—”

 

     “Peter?”  Carol finished her sentence, and the two women looked at each other with complete understanding.  “Mm-hm,” Therese added, “yes, Peter.  Do you think it would sit well with him?  Bubbles would be fine, I would think, and Peter seemed kind to you and I.”  She sighed with heaviness and melancholy.  “But Elaine is one of us, too, and there’s pictures of Maggie all over the house…”

 

     The other woman felt her temper flare.  “We are who we are, Therese!  He’s a big boy and if it doesn’t sit well with him, he can leave, right?”  Her eyes were lit with blue fire despite the late-day fatigue creeping up on her.  “I’d hope he would at least recognize Elaine’s hospitality and generosity!”  She rose then, padding over to the liquor cabinet in stocking feet.  She poured two glasses of whiskey, twirling the amber colored liquid as she returned to the sofa.  Handing one to her girlfriend, Carol raised hopeful eyebrows.  “Besides, darling, I’ll have Rindy that weekend.  Between her, Bubbles, and the dogs, maybe Peter won’t even notice all of us lesbians.”  She laughed in amusement, her eyes taking on a devilish glow.

 

     Therese laughed, too, offering Carol an answering, fiendish look.  “Oh my god, Alicia will probably be there, and maybe Sr. Catherine or Sr. Josephine!”  She laughed again, her spirits lifting with her thoughts.  “ _Nuns and lesbians._   The perfect companions for a twenty-year old guy!  I’m definitely telling Elaine we’d like to come!”

 

                             _______________________________________________________

 

     As they gathered around Sabina’s gravesite, Therese realized her head wasn’t feeling attached to her shoulders.  None of this seemed real—not her mother in the coffin about to be lowered into the earth; not Peter and Bubbles to her left; nor even Carol to her right.  She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder from behind and knew instinctively it was Alicia, offering her timeless reassurance, much like she had done from the time Therese was little taller than the woman’s waist.  She’d seen the other faces—Abby, bless her heart; Sr. Josephine and Sr. Catherine and Sr. Mary Margaretta.  And a crusty looking minister wearing black slacks, a gray overcoat and black fedora.  He also wore a truly imposing frown deeply etched into a face that looked like it had been pickled.  _If he’s supposed to be filling me with peace and comfort and hope of heaven, it’s not working._  

 

     A biting, late autumn wind rattled the brittle branches on the trees around them, scattering crunchy leaves in tiny explosions meant to warn of winter’s approach.  Therese’s cheeks stung, her nose turned red, her eyes watered.   She thought she might be going numb as the minister droned on, his scratchy voice as dry as the dead leaves.  A hollow emptiness permeated, and she might have given in to its seductive invitation to fall into a black hole as dark as the grave.

 

     But then, partway through the service, she felt Bubbles reach for her hand.  The teen looked up, her distinctive eyes teary under the red beanie she wore.  Therese felt her heart clench, squeezed by a wave of love so powerful she caught her breath.  _My sister!  Where did you even come from?  I’m here, honey.  I’m here!_

Bubbles stood on tiptoes to reach Therese’s ear.  “Mama’s body is dead now,” she whispered loudly.  “Pete says it has to go back to the ground.”  The young voice was thick with tears, and Therese pulled Bubbles close, slipping an arm around her.  “But mama still loves me, Therese!  She loves me in the air because she doesn’t have any arms,” the girl said, her young voice suddenly clear and certain.

 

     Therese hugged her, kissing the top of her head as another wave of love swept through her.  She felt Carol’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and Alicia’s rubbing gentle circles into her back.  _Oh, how these women sustain me!_   She lifted her eyes and saw Peter gazing at her.  His square-jawed face looked young and strikingly handsome beneath the white Navy dress cap perched on his dark head.  She noticed his clenched jaw, the flaring of his nostrils, the hint of moisture in his eyes, from the whipping wind or tears or both.  His eyes held hers, steady and unblinking, and a chord was silently struck between them.  It was a moment of harmony, of agreement.  _She’s our little sister.  We’ll look after her now._

The young brunette gave Peter a faint smile, hugging Bubbles closer before turning away and letting her eyes take in the bare trees and browning grass, the cemetery’s gently rolling hills.  She breathed deeply of the cold air, filling her lungs and exhaling in small white puffs while absentmindedly watching the squirrels scurrying about in a near clump of trees.There were still a few hardy birds around, too, and their calls stood out against the starkness of the surroundings.

 

     Nature was soothing her, as always, offering grounding and hope, filling her heart with gratitude.    _Thank you!  Thank you for the way_ _I can see you.  Even now._ The whispered prayer had no sooner left her lips when Therese was stunned to see a swift flash of blue and orange, and the bluebird that landed in a bush a few yards away.  She caught her breath, held in a timeless moment as the bird looked at her, holding her gaze with command before it soon took flight again.  She stared after it, watched it make a graceful, blue arc against the steel gray sky before it was lifted away on the wind.

 

     She brought a hand up, placing it over her chest where her heart thumped passionately, eyes darkening with tears.  _Thank you!  Thank you so much.  Thank you!_

______________________________________________

 

     It seemed that as soon as Carol turned the big Packard into the long, winding driveway that led to Elaine’s house, the lingering heaviness from the graveside service began to lift.  Therese thought Carol might be feeling it, too, because the blond beauty discreetly slid her hand across the front seat, seeking out Therese’s, wrapping her fingers around it and giving a reassuring squeeze.  They exchanged quick, tender smiles, then together watched the tall, deep green pines pass by outside the windows, their branches waving as if to welcome them.

 

     They rounded a bend and the cottage came into view, its wooden shingles looking weathered by sun, storms, and wind.  _Well, I’ll…it’s like coming home!_ Carol felt her face crease with a smile, and she sighed with pleasure.  _So many lovely memories have been made here._ She turned her head to Therese, her face suffused with warmth.  The young woman still stared out the window, sparking a memory of their initial trip out west, when every other glance seemed to yield an image of the back of Therese’s head.  She had been enraptured with the scenery, and Carol could not understand this.  It was flat to rolling, mostly empty, and sometimes bleak.  To her, boring.  To Therese, a grand adventure through beautiful country.

 

     Sensing that she was being watched, the brunette turned and offered Carol a wide, joyful smile.  Carol felt her heart turn over, and felt overwhelmed as always, by the intensity of her feelings.  But she had no more time to mull this avenue of thinking, because Therese spoke.  “It’s like coming home, isn’t it?”

 

     From the back seat, Bubbles was roused from sleep as the car came to a stop.  “Are we here, Carol?  Is this Elaine’s house?  Oh!  Look at the ocean out there!  It’s bigger than the pictures in school!  Can I swim right away?”

 

     Beside her, Peter chuckled in amusement.  “Bubbles, you can’t swim, honey!”  His tone was patient, loving.  “The water’s freezing cold!  It’s almost winter now…not a good time for swimming.  But someday I’ll try to bring you to the ocean, okay?”

 

     But Bubbles was distracted by the sight of Elaine coming out of the house, followed by a scampering, excited Rindy and the two dogs.  It was Peter, though, who exclaimed, “Wow!  Look at the size of that dog!”  For his part, Sparky lumbered his huge, black body down the steps in excitement and began his version of a quick sprint to the line of cars that had pulled in: Carol, Therese, Bubbles and Peter in the Packard; Abby, with Sr. Josephine; and Alicia, who had been driven down with Sr. Catherine by Sr. Mary Margaretta.  Benny was hot on his heels, his alto yipping in complete contrast to Sparky’s deep, baritone _woof!_

 

     Carol was excited to see Rindy, going to her as quickly as her elegant heels would allow.  “Rindy!  Hi, sweet pea!  Have you had fun with Elaine?”  The blond, blue-eyed child could barely contain herself.  “Hi, mommy!” she shouted, as if Carol wasn’t four inches away.  “Oh, it’s been so fun!  “‘Laine and me took the dogs for a walk an’ they got all wet an’ we had to dry them an’ the ocean is so cold and now we’re decorating cupcakes!”

 

     “I’m so excited to see them, darling!  What a fun time you’ve had!” Carol responded with an enthusiastic hug for her daughter and a huge smile for Elaine, whose blue eyes glowed with pleasure.  “Elaine!” she said, reaching out to hug the attractive, silver-haired woman whose kindness had brought them all here.

 

     Elaine returned the smile and hug, then opened her arms and shouted over the barking.  “Hi, everyone!  Welcome!  I’m so happy you’ve all come!”  Amidst the hugs and hellos, Peter wandered away, perhaps uncomfortable in so much female company.  But perhaps it also was Sparky he wanted most to meet.  Young man and huge creature made a beeline for each other, as if male camaraderie was wearing the name tag they both were searching for.

 

     Therese watched them, drawn to her dark-haired brother and not really understanding why.  She thought it might be the mantle of sorrow that seemed to be sitting on his broad shoulders, or the ponderous sense of responsibility in his young stride.  She understood these perfectly, and her heart ached for him, and for Bubbles.  _You’ve lost your mother.  I understand, Peter.  How I understand!_

Peter reached the Newfie and dropped to a knee without a moment’s hesitation.  Therese watched Sparky sit almost instinctively, thumping his tail and looking at the young man with those coal-black, soulful eyes.  “Oh, god, aren’t you a beauty!” she heard him murmur.  “Hi, Sparky!  Hi, boy.  I’m Pete.”

 

     It was incredibly beautiful to watch, this bonding moment between man and animal.  Therese felt the communion, the bonding of souls, the deep and wordless communication occurring, and it took her breath away.  She saw Peter bring his forehead toward the dog’s massive head, rubbing behind his ears with both hands while they looked at each other.  It was like watching the first meeting between soulmates.  Peter’s stiff body relaxed, little by little; his tense shoulders dropped; then his arms started to quiver, shaking with suppressed emotion.  The dog stood patiently, his entire body expressing a gentle acceptance.  Huge and imposing, the visual representation of threat, the Newfie’s soul was the epitome of kindness.

 

     It was this kindness that brought tears to Therese.  Sparky’s kindness.  Elaine’s kindness.  Carol’s kindness.  Alicia’s kindness.  The kindness of the other women who journeyed here to be a source of company and comfort in the wake of her mother’s passing.  The kindness of Rindy, who seemed to have made instantaneous friends with Bubbles, whose own kind and gentle spirit responded immediately and with boundless enthusiasm.

 

     As the tears overflowed, she felt a strong arm come around her shoulders, a soft kiss placed on her cheek.  Carol looked at her with infinite tenderness.  “He’s the perfect balm for Peter, isn’t he?”  The lovely blond was choked with tears also, her nose red and eyes watering, her cheeks flushed by the demands of life and loss and love.  She clasped Therese’s slender hand in her own, exhaling a single, grateful breath.

 

     The lovely brunette smiled through her tears, clasping her girlfriend’s hand with meaning.  “For me, too, Carol.  For me, too.”

 

                                           _________________________________________

 

     Elaine had baked a ham and made vegetable soup, both of which had released enticing aromas that permeated the air.  She’d bought fresh rye bread, kosher dills, coarse mustard, and sliced swiss cheese at the corner deli.  With Rindy, she’d baked chocolate cupcakes, then let the child ice and decorate them, quite obviously with very little help, by their somewhat clumpy, mangled appearance.  Carol, Therese, and Abby had each brought a bottle of good wine, and the sisters came with apple cider.

 

     Now the lunch guests sat around Elaine’s dining room table, which had earlier been extended to accommodate their large numbers.  Sparky and Benny, exhausted from a run on the beach with Therese, Peter, and the children, lay sprawled in front of a crackling fire.  They were sound asleep, with Benny pressed up against his oversized friend in a scene Therese would have loved to photograph.

 

     Alicia raised her voice just loud enough to be heard above the others.  “Shall we pray?” she asked, her blue eyes earnest.  All agreed with her, one head after another bowing in silence.  The old nun brought her hands together and prayed: “Lord, we thank you for this food before us; for Elaine, who’s opened her home to us with love and generosity; for the bonds of old friendships and the blessings of new; for the life of Sabina, who we trust is at peace in your arms, finally; for her beautiful children, who grieve her absence and go forward with the memory of her love; and for the faithfulness of pets who have so much to each us about loving.  We ask for the presence of your Holy Spirit in the hearts of all gathered here, and the promise of your peace, now and always.  Amen.”

 

     It was a simple prayer to begin a simply wonderful meal.  It had been a long and stressful morning, and all gathered were hungry.  Therese was surprised and pleased she had an appetite.  The food was replenishing, and she felt her lightheadedness dissipating.  She smiled.

 

     “Elaine, this is wonderful.  Thank you so much!”  Her eyes grew misty with tears again.  “It’s so kind…”  Across the table, Peter swallowed a bite, looked closely at his sister.  He’d been quiet so far; uncertain what, if anything he had to offer in the company of all these women.  Now, he cleared his throat. 

 

     “Yes, Elaine.  This is so generous of you…having perfect strangers here.  Mom would be so thankful you reached out to Bubbles and me.  We really don’t have anyone…no family… Well, now we have Therese…”  He smiled at her, at once rugged and shy and insecure.

 

     All the women at the table felt a tug at their heartstrings, and murmurings came from every corner, motherly instincts taking over, or discovered for the first time, or begrudgingly pulled from their hiding places.  Elaine spoke up.

 

     “Peter, it’s my pleasure to have you here, dear.  I’m thrilled you and Bubbles were okay with coming!”  Her voice was strong, but gentle and reassuring.  “I understand it, you know; losing someone you love is dreadfully hard.  None of us should have to walk through it alone.  I wanted to give you what Alicia and so many others gave me when Maggie died…”

 

     Alicia and the sisters all clucked their tongues, seemingly at once, and the plump, rosy-cheeked nun exclaimed, “Peter, of course, you have family!  Think of us Franciscans that way, if you will.  We want to be here for you and Bubbles.  And remember God holds you always in the palm of his hand.  No matter how it may seem…”

 

     “Come to Pace de Christo!  Please!  You’re family now, both of you!  Come for Christmas!”  Sr. Catherine interjected, her brown eyes conveying her sincerity.

 

     “Then come for Easter!  And help us get the gardens ready for spring planting!” Alicia added, then let go one of her trademark bursts of riotous laughter, which made everyone else laugh.

 

     Bubbles shouted, “Can we, Pete?  Can we?”

 

      Whatever Peter was going to say was lost on Therese.  She happened to notice Abby and Sr. Mary Margaretta make eye contact, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the gorgeous, red-haired, young nun had a blush creeping up her neck and into her pale, flawless face.  Abby, too, had flames in her cheeks, and both of the women had a second or two when they couldn’t look away from each other, when Therese could have sworn she was observing the unmistakable flare of attraction.

 

     Carol must have noticed, too, because her hand shot out underneath the table, grabbing Therese’s thigh and squeezing so hard in her ticklish spot, the young woman almost burst into very inappropriate giggles.  She swatted her hand away, but the two of them made quick eye contact; Carol’s blue gray gaze was filled with alarm and amusement.  She looked away when she heard Rindy’s voice.

 

     “Can we, mommy?”

 

     Carol looked at her daughter blankly, still somewhat taken aback at what she’d just witnessed.  “I’m sorry, sweet pea.  I got distracted.  Can we what?”

 

     “Can Bubbles join our family, too?  Her momma’s dead now.  Can you be her momma?  Can I be her sister?”  The child’s clear, young voice was filled with excitement at her idea, having no understanding yet that Bubbles was Therese’s half-sister and already very much a part of their family.

 

     Carol’s heart turned over at the obvious spirit of generosity and love Rindy was showing.  It gave her hope that she and Harge hadn’t screwed the child up too badly.  At least not yet.  “Rindy, Bubbles lives in Pennsylvania, with Sr. Josephine.  It’s where she goes to school.  But yes,” she replied happily, “she can come visit us and be a part of our family any time she wants!”

 

     Under the table, Therese reached for Carol’s warm hand.  She wanted, needed the physical contact with this woman she loved so deeply.  She had a moment’s intense longing to be in her arms, to be held close and feel the reassuring thump of their heartbeats, skin to skin.  So much had changed, and so quickly.  She couldn’t process it all, not yet.  Love, life, death, grief, betrayal, brokenness, healing, charity, faith, abundance.  They were all inside, dotting an inner landscape with many paths, and not many of them clearly marked.

 

     She took a deep breath, giving Carol’s hand another squeeze.  Many choices.  Many paths.  But still, just one woman. 

 

     Wherever they were headed, they would walk together. 

 

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With love, and wishes for peace, as always.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this story will be too cumbersome if I put it all in one chapter.  
> Hence, this one...with the last to follow as soon as I can write it.  
> Thinking of you all on this New Years Day, and sending this off to you with hopes for   
> a bright and beautiful 2019.

 The Packard was cruising through the darkness with a tired but competent Carol behind the wheel.  Therese sat next to her in the front seat, close enough to keep a warm hand nearby for the occasional squeeze.  In the back, Rindy and Bubbles had both fallen asleep.  The two girls had chattered on in excitement for quite a while.  Bubbles would spend the night, a new and exotic experience that brought talk of plans to be made once they reached home.  Eventually, and thankfully, as far as Carol and Therese were concerned, they nodded off, and now the soft strains of _Moonlight Serenade_ piped from the radio. 

 

     Therese gazed out at the night, which seemed as dark and rich as velvet.  She knew they were speeding past tall, looming pines and copses of hardwood trees; away from the peaceful, isolated shoreline that so comforted her, those endless waves in hypnotic meditation. 

 

     She reached across the seat and stroked Carol’s thigh, needing the contact.  In the darkness, the older woman turned her head for a moment.  “Are you okay, darling?” she asked, her husky voice quiet in the night.

 

     The younger woman nodded as she spoke.  “Mm-hm.  I’ll miss the trees and beach once we get home.  It’s been so…nurturing to be here for a little while.  Elaine was just so kind to have us!”  She paused while her thoughts took shape.  “I think it meant a lot to Peter, maybe reassured him that Bubbles has several caring adults in her life now.  And he seemed to do okay with all the nuns and lesbians around him!”

 

     They shared a soft laugh, and then Carol said, “Speaking of nuns and lesbians…oh god, I shouldn’t even bring this up, but Abby—”

 

     “--And Mary?” Therese finished, grabbing Carol’s leg with urgency.

 

     “Yes!  Oh, god, I could tell you sensed it, too.  It felt like electricity crackling between the two of them!  I just…I’m not sure what to say.  She’s a nun, for heaven’s sake.  And don’t you think Alicia noticed the energy, the looks they gave each other?”

 

     “Of course!” Therese burst forth.  “The swami soothsayer?  I _know_ she noticed!”  She stopped, looking at Carol’s profile in the faint light from the dashboard.  “Are you going to say anything?”  But before she even finished speaking, the older woman was shaking her head.  “Not on your life, darling.  Not unless Abby brings it up, and even then, what can I say?  Hands off nuns?”  Carol almost shivered, well aware her best friend was never at a loss for a girlfriend.

 

     “Well, Mary _does_ live in a convent two hours away!  So, there’s that at least,” the young brunette observed, scooting closer to Carol.  She lifted her hand and picked up a few strands of the older woman’s silky blond hair, letting it run through her fingers.  “We’re lucky, aren’t we?  To have found each other?”  It was a redundant question, but Carol answered anyhow, reaching for Therese’s hand and kissing her palm tenderly.

 

     “Darling,” she replied, her voice tight with feeling, “we’re the two most lucky people I know!”

 

                                    ________________________________________________ 

 

     They had pulled out the cot for Bubbles.  It was set up in Rindy’s room, which both girls were excited about.  Despite their age difference, they never seemed to be at a loss for things to discuss.  Now they were in Rindy’s bathroom speaking in chattered words interspersed with muffled _mwumf—mwumfs_ interspersed with the distinct sound of toothpaste being spit out and running water.

 

     Carol and Therese were sitting together on the edge of Rindy’s bed, and they exchanged amused looks as the bathroom prattle floated out to them.  The women were delighted that the girls had clicked as they were all in unchartered territory, especially where Bubble’s needs were concerned.  But the teen’s adjustment to being in the Aird--Belivet household seemed to proceed seamlessly and her lively, engagingly simple way of relating proved irresistible for all of them, especially Rindy.

 

     Now, the girls exited the bathroom and came to stand in front of Carol and Therese.  Rindy’s blue eyes were sparkling with excitement, and she threw her arms open wide.  “Mommy, Therese!  Guess what?” she asked, her voice fervent with excitement.

 

     Therese responded first, tickled by the child’s enthusiasm despite her exhaustion.  “I have no idea!  Tell us, Rindy!  What?”

 

     “Bubbles has a sleepover _every_ night!  She sleeps with…maybe _twenty hundred_ girls in her room!”  The little girl was on the verge of a shout, and her blond curls bounced with vibrating energy.

 

     Both Therese and Carol tried to hide smiles of tender amusement.  “Twenty hundred?  That’s a lot of girls, sweetheart!  Are you sure…maybe Bubbles said _twenty_ girls?” Carol asked with obvious love for her child glowing from her blue gray eyes.

 

     At this point, Bubble’s face took on an expression of consternation, as if she wasn’t sure what she had told Rindy.  Her brown, wide-set eyes reflected her confusion.  “I think it’s twenty girls.  But maybe it is twenty hundred?”  The teen, thought Carol, looked somehow very old and wise and completely innocent, with eyes that had seen far too much of life’s harshness and a heart that beheld its ethereal beauty as few others could.

 

     Therese was moved by the confusion on her sister’s face.  She rose from the bed and came to her, putting an arm around her shoulders.  “Bubbles honey, it doesn’t matter.  I think what’s most important for Rindy to understand is that you live at St. Agatha’s, with many other children who don’t have parents to live with.”  The two youngsters, clad in their flannel nightwear with quickly tiring eyes, scrutinized Therese closely.  When Rindy came to her mother’s side, Carol’s arms opened in the most effortless way, like water bubbling downstream, throwing its silver sheen over smooth rocks.

 

     “Mommy,” the child began, glancing at their guest with concerned eyes, “can Bubbles please come for another sleepover?  She can’t go home to her mommy, but I’ll share.”  She shuffled her small, bare feet in the light blue carpeting, her curling toes an accent to the intensity of her feelings.

 

     Carol’s eyes grew moist with emotion.  “Yes, sweetheart, of course she can!  I’m sure we’d all like her to come for many sleepovers!”  The tired parent set her shoulders with as much resolve as she could muster.  “But for now, it’s time for the two of you to get to sleep.  Remember, in the morning Elaine will drop off Alicia, and then Therese will drive Alicia and Bubbles to St. Agatha’s.”

Almost bleary-eyed now, the girls did as asked with no arguments.  Carol and Therese gave them both kisses on their foreheads, and Therese murmured, “Goodnight now.  Sleep well.”

But Bubbles wasn’t ready for sleep just yet, shaking her head on her pillow.  “No, Therese.  Sr. Josephine says we have to thank God for our blessings before we sleep.  Can I pray?”

The two women looked at each other, deeply moved.  “That would be lovely, Bubbles,” Therese replied softly.  The teen clasped her hands together, yawning despite herself.  “Hi God.  It’s me, Bubbles.  Thank you for having mommy with you in heaven now.  Please take care of her and make her hurting stop.  Thank you for Pete and keep him safe on the ocean.  Thank you for Therese and Carol and their nice house and Rindy, my new friend.  Thank you for Sr. Josephine and all the rest of the ladies and for Benny and Sparky and please God, bring me a dog.  Amen.”

 

     “Sleep now, you two.  Goodnight,” Carol whispered, and as Therese and her quietly left the room, the girls were slipping away in slumber.

Out in the hallway, Therese was wavering on her feet and felt almost lightheaded with fatigue.  Carol, too, felt weariness descend like a sledgehammer, hitting between her shoulder blades, making her head swim.  They looked at the remains of their day’s travels, bags and coats and shoes strewn about in a most disorderly fashion.  They looked at one another, each shaking her head.

“No way,” Carol muttered.  “Let’s go to bed, darling.  This will all be here in the morning.”  Therese didn’t even speak, just nodded and began shuffling her way to the bedroom wishing she didn’t have to brush her teeth.  They moved silently through their bedtime preparations and soon crawled into bed with immense relief.

 

     Therese lay on her back, reaching for Carol’s hand in the inky darkness.  The sleepy blond met her halfway and warm hands clasped tenderly.  For some reason, an image of a cocoon floated through Carol’s fuzzy brain.

“Carol?” Therese whispered, struggling against the tide of exhaustion.  The other woman tried to focus.  “Yes, sweetheart?” she replied softly.  Therese squeezed her hand, searching for words that were hard to come by.

 

     “Thank you.  Thank you so much.”  She paused, still unable to form the words that danced at the edge of consciousness like stars twinkling in the night sky.  “I wish…”  She sighed.  “I’m so tired but I would like to make love to you.  I’m sorry…”  Her voice faded, quivering with fatigue.

 

     Carol’s answer was to turn on her side and pull the younger woman into her arms.  She tucked her head against her neck, running gentle fingers through the silky hair.  “Too tired for orgasm,” she murmured.  “Just let me hold you.”  It was so warm here, such a safe and comforting embrace that tears swam behind Therese’s closed eyelids.  A memory came, glistening and lovely, a snowflake of incomparable beauty.

 

     “Do you remember…the first time, Carol?  The first time we held each other this way…”  She smiled, and Carol felt it against her throat, warm breath and a tickle.  She nodded, her red lips curving, cupping the memory, so tender and sweet.

 

     The two lovers drifted, consciousness ebbed, then floated out to sea.  Embraced by peace, they slept.

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do any of you know of Ellen Bass's poem, "Pray For Peace?"  
> It's powerful, beautiful, and on my mind today.  
> Google it if you care to.   
> I'm holding you all in my heart where I've lit a flame of peace and gratitude for you.
> 
> Happy New Year, dear hearts! Shine on!!!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,  
> I took the one less traveled by,  
> And that has made all the difference.  
> Robert Frost
> 
> In the depth of winter, I finally learned  
> that within me lay an invincible summer.  
> Albert Camus
> 
> Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace,  
> that we may obtain mercy and find grace  
> to help in time of need.  
> Hebrews 4:16

 

 

     Sr. Alicia stared at the fire.  It burned steadily, the orange gold flames dancing the steps that never failed to completely mesmerize her; the hiss, pop, and crackle of the burning logs the perfect accompaniment.  The old nun took a sip of her tea with a smile on her face.  It was such a treat, being here, enjoying this fire.  They certainly didn’t have a fireplace at Pace de Christo.  This was pure decadence, and she felt blessed.

 

     Elaine had long since gone to bed, tired from her day as a hostess for the gathering after Sabina’s funeral.  Now it was just Alicia awake in the beach house.  Sparky lay at her feet, a huge, sprawling ocean liner of a dog whose faint snores rose from the floor and brought the nun an unspoken solace she knew she needed.

 

     She sighed.  In the morning, Elaine would take her to Carol and Therese’s apartment, and then Alicia and Therese would drive Bubbles to St. Agatha’s.  She felt her belly do a small flip-flop.  If truth be told, she wasn’t sure she was looking forward to the journey.  It wasn’t being with Therese and Bubbles that made her doubt.  Alicia was always delighted to be in the company of Therese; the dear girl was a daughter to her, and one with whom she had very little time.  And Bubbles!  The teen was simply a joy to be with, open and unaffected, smart and wise and enthusiastic.  Alice had always been known for being “bubbly,” but Bubbles was truly the mold from which all others were cut.

 

     She took another sip of tea.  It was going to St. Agatha’s itself that was the cause of her slight discomfort.  Alicia had left there years ago now, and when she had it was because she was falling apart, spiraling down into a nervous breakdown; a time of ill health for her, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  She wasn’t feeling embarrassed or ashamed, so to speak.  But it was the remembrance of the pain that seared her, the fragility of self-control, the crippling exhaustion that drove her breakdown and gave her pause _,_ even now.

The old nun felt her palms grow moist on her teacup.  She fidgeted on the sofa, her troublesome hip aching, a spasm of unrest shooting through her.  It was barely a beat before Sparky, ever sensitive, rose from the floor to lay his massive head on her knee.  He looked at her with those soulful, coal black eyes, gentle and unblinking.  They gazed at each other for a few quiet moments, until finally, Alicia smiled.  “Sparky, boy, you are the _best!_ Did the Lord tell you to get up now and talk some sense into me?”  Petting his head, Alicia allowed the silky fur to soothe her, taking and releasing deep, slow breaths as her therapist had taught her so many years ago.

She gazed at the flames in the fireplace as if they held her answers.  _Why the quiver in my_ _stomach, Lord?  Am I still afraid of that old pain?  And what do I do about it, all these years later?  What do I do with this shakiness, this part of me that still feels about as strong as a kite in a maelstrom?_ Alicia allowed herself to simply sit with her questions now, as shaky as they made her feel; to sit with the unease, the fear, the uncertainty.  She watched the fire still, allowing her breaths, the slight thudding in her ears.

 

     Sparky, ever watchful, moved his head in her lap, still eyeing her steadily.  A small sound rose from his throat, a baritone murmur intended to get her attention.  Alicia looked down at the Newfie, making eye contact.  Then she smiled, a smile of remembrance, of release.  The dog’s very presence was her teacher in this moment.  “Why, Sparky, you are…”  She shook her head, felt her face grow warm, her muscles relax, her feet tingle.  “You are _my_ swami!  Aren’t you just…St. Francis would simply love you!”  She petted him, the enormous head comforting her with its solid bulk, the strong bones that seemed to prop her up. 

 

     Alicia fell silent, closing her eyes as if to shut out her persistent thoughts.  She listened to Sparky’s rhythmic breathing; to the crackling fire, the creaks and groans of the old house as it stood upright against the Atlantic’s salty, onshore winds.  _Okay, Lord.  Yes!  I’ll_ _invite you in!  I’m sorry… I forgot you again.  So come!  Come into this shakiness, this uncertainty, this old pain.  Transform it all for your own purposes!  Heal me as you know I need to be healed, according to your wisdom.  Change me, Lord, into who you need me to become.  I surrender!  Again and again and again…_

The old nun grew still, quieted by the silent communion, the peace of being in the presence of her Lord.  It would be okay.  Now, she could rise and walk again.

 

                                    _________________________________________

 

     The drive from Manhattan to St. Agatha’s was considerable, just over four hours.  Bubbles, worn out from the funeral and sleepover, had finally fallen asleep, her head propped against one of Rindy’s bed pillows.  The exuberant teen had chatted non-stop for a while, her excitement to see Sr. Josephine and her friends an almost palpable thing.

 

     Now, it was in a welcomed silence that Therese drove, while Alicia sat beside her in the front seat, sipping coffee from a thermos cup.  The radio was on, piping soothing voices and beautiful music into the car; currently Nat King Cole was crooning.  Outside, the Pennsylvania countryside rolled by.  Thick stands of deep green trees; rolling farmlands dotted with a network of pastures and brown fields; white grain silos and red barns; and cows and sheep grazing peacefully in the pale December sun created an altogether warm, bucolic vista.

 

     Therese breathed it all in.  She was nervous about going to St. Agatha’s, and the undulating hills felt like an embrace.  She was longing to lose herself here, in the mysterious, beckoning, emerald green folds where she knew birds were singing and the earth smelled rich with peat and leaf, where she was certain there was a God who was alive and well.

 

     “I can feel you, dear heart, and I hate to tell you, but we’ve no time to stop for a stroll in the woods.”  Alice spoke quietly from the passenger side of the car, and her swami sense had Therese whipping her head around, eyes wide and bright.

 

     “Alicia, you are…”  The young woman shook her head, at a loss for words.  “How do you do that?  How can you know exactly what I’m feeling?”  She shook her head again, flabbergasted and thinking that after all these years, she shouldn’t be. 

 

     Alicia shrugged in a self-deprecating manner.  “Oh, Therese, it’s just what God gave me.  You know that by now,” she murmured, her smile gentle and reassuring.  She reached a hand across the seat and gave Therese’s shoulder a light squeeze, her blue eyes alert, discerning.  “Tell me, though…are you alright?”

 

     Therese sighed.  “I think so,” she replied honestly, chewing on her lower lip.  “I’m a little…uptight about going to St. Agatha’s.”  She digested her own comment, letting it settle like so much dust.  “It’s been a long time, Alicia, and I’m not exactly proud of who I was when I was there.”

 

     “Ah…yes, I understand,” the old woman murmured.  She was silent for a few moments, feeling Therese’s thoughts spinning in time with the tires, over and again.  “I remember that Therese well, you know…”  She gave her young companion another squeeze on the shoulder.  “That’s not who you are now, dear.  That Therese was hurting so much…so scared and volatile.”  She paused, a gleam catching fire in the depths of her eyes.  “But you must remember…I was telling myself this very thing just last night, darling… _You did the_ _absolute best_ _you could do with what you had and how much you’d healed in that_ _moment!_ You couldn’t be anywhere else!  You couldn’t _be_ any different, Therese.”

 

     Alicia turned in her seat, wincing as her ornery hip offered up a shooting pain.  Therese had her eyes on the road, and her hands on the steering wheel looked strong and competent.  The nun couldn’t help but smile.  “But my…you’ve grown and healed!  _You are amazing, dear one!”_ There was a change in Alicia’s energy, a seismic shift, and it seemed a clear, bold breeze had blown through the car.  The nun felt it deeply.  _The Holy Spirit!  Right on time!_

 

     Therese sat up straighter without knowing why, except that her dear swami’s words were so needed, so healing.  It felt as if light was expanding the spaces between her vertebra, pulling her toward the sky.  For some reason, she thought of the decorators then, of the dreams she’d had these last few months and how they seemed to pop up just when she’d needed them during the whole ordeal of Sabina’s illness and passing.

 

     The young woman risked a quick look away from the road and at Alicia.  The plump nun was smiling, her pink cheeks lifted toward sparkling blue eyes.  Therese paused, shaking her head.  _Why did it never_ _occur to me?_   _The little decorator…she could have been a celestial version of Alicia!  Especially in those_ _lively, love-filled eyes!_   The brunette laughed out loud, startling her travel companion.

 

     “Alicia, can I tell you about the decorators?” She took another quick look, observing the blank expression on her mentor’s face.  “The… _who?”_ came the reply.

 

     “The decorators.  These figures in my dreams over the last few months.  Can I tell you about them?” Therese asked a second time.  The nun’s face reflected excited animation, like a child gazing at a Christmas tree, dressed and sparkling with colored lights.  “Oh…dream figures!  Yes please, tell me, dear.  I love dream figures!” she responded with her trademark enthusiasm.

 

     So, Therese launched into the tales of her dreams, hoping Bubbles was kind enough to keep sleeping so she could get through them all.  Alicia listened attentively, murmuring here and there, offering an “oh!” and “ahh!” when particularly moved.  Beyond that, she said very little, just nodded her head in encouragement.  When the younger woman had finally finished, she felt breathless, aware her face was warm.

 

     It was quiet for several moments, during which Therese could almost feel the energy from Alicia’s side of the Packard flowing toward her in waves.  The nun remained silent, hands clasped in her lap, eyes closed, head bobbing up and down as if she was conversing with herself.  The last thing the young brunette expected was when, after what seemed an interminably long time, Alicia clapped her hands and then made the sign of the cross, picking up the crucifix that hung upon her ample bosom and kissing it tenderly. _“Soli Deo Gloria_ ,” Alicia whispered.

 

     Therese struggled to keep her eyes on the road and remain patient.  But it was only after another heartbeat or two that her companion asked, “Therese dear, the decorator…the tall one?  The doctor?”

 

     “Yes?”

 

     “You said she identified herself as an obstetrician, right?  So…why does a woman see an obstetrician?” Alicia asked, and Therese shook her head in confusion, irritated that she’d been waiting in patience for this rather stupid question to emerge from her friend’s mouth.  “Alicia, I can hardly be _pregnant_ , can I?” she asked, her tone betraying her frustration.

 

     “No, dear one. _Not with a baby!_ But to my mind, that’s exactly what your dream sequences illustrate!  Again and again, the decorators invited you to give birth to a new part of yourself, didn’t they?  Do something different.  Try something new.  Go against your grain.  Take a leap of faith!  _Let go and trust!”_ The ebullient nun laughed, more than delighted and deeply moved.  “Your decorators were walking you through your pregnancy!  They were your mid-wives!”

 

     Therese shook her head, mystified.  “I’m not—I don’t—” She stopped, clearly struggling, and Alicia reached across the seat to give her thigh a gentle squeeze.  “Don’t pressure yourself, darling.  But if you’re willing, let this conversation percolate, okay?  Pull it back into your awareness when you have the energy for it.”  The old nun smiled gently.

 

     “Your decorators were a gift, an invitation to life.  Trust me on this.  The spiritual life is always about noticing the invitations.  And saying yes, even if it hurts!”

 

                                       _______________________________________________

 

     It was a shorter driveway than she remembered.  Still made of gravel and compressed dirt, it crunched beneath the Packard’s tires in a way that sounded expectant.  Therese was aware of butterflies batting about in her stomach still.  But as the big, old, brick building came into view, she smiled.  _St. Agatha’s._ Pulling the car to a stop, she looked over at Alicia, whose blue eyes were wide and bright, and said the first thing that came to mind:

 

     “Alicia, I tortured you here!”  But the Franciscan nun’s response was lost in the absolute flurry of Bubble’s excitement.

 

     “I see her!” she shouted.  “It’s Sr. Josephine!  And there’s Ernie and Annie!  My friends!”  Before either Therese or Alicia could say a word, the teen had bolted from the back seat.  They watched her run, her gait choppy, moving her short legs as quickly as she could.

 

     “Sr. Josephine!  I was worried I wouldn’t see you again!”  They heard Bubble’s exclamation as they exited the car, watched her throw her arms around the nun’s waist and bury her face in the tunic-covered shoulder.  Josephine leaned down, embracing the girl with tenderness.  She kissed the top of her head, where the thin, brown air was wispy in the wind.

 

     “Of course, you were going to see me again, child!” Josephine reassured, her voice soft and soothing.  The picture they made brought immediate tears to Therese’s eyes and left a lump in her throat.  Unconsciously, she reached for Alicia’s hand, enveloping it in her own, running a thumb over the weathered skin.  _Oh, how many times you held me!  So many times, over so many years!_  Wisely, Alicia made no comment.  The warmth of their joined hands was all the communication needed, and something they both heard.

 

     Therese stood watching in fascination as Ernie and Annie greeted Bubbles.  It was a happy reunion of three teens who all appeared fond of each other, and it reassured her immensely to know her sister was obviously so well-cared for at St. Agatha’s.  Bubbles was soon headed into the two-story building with her friends, turning to shout, “I’m going to visit the cats, Therese!  I’ll be back soon!”   As the teens bolted off, Josephine and Alicia gravitated to one another, soon turning to walk into the orphanage, also.

 

     It left Therese alone with her thoughts, and for this she was grateful.  The young woman’s eyes roamed the grounds, taking in the massive beech trees still standing to the left of the orphanage where she’d spent so many isolated hours attempting to soothe herself under their canopy.  The lawn was brown now, in early December, but she knew that come late spring it would grow green once again, an emerald carpet she had loved to lay upon.  Behind the structure, in the distance, though somehow much closer than she remembered, were the woods where she’d spent the majority of her free time, walking, creeking, taking photos, and sitting on rocks with her bare toes in the stream, dreaming about the wonderful life she would one day make for herself.

 

     And have I? she wondered, moving toward the front steps.  Her thoughts were like fireflies, moving quickly, illuminated with a flash of awareness, and then slipping away.  She knew the love she shared with Carol was the most magnificent part of her life, a gift beyond measure.  Beyond that, so much had happened in the last few months it left her breathless, uncertain where the next footfall would be. 

_But I know this—I finally feel whole._ She stopped walking, surprised and almost shocked.  _I do!  I feel_ _like a whole person!_ Therese turned the insight around in her stunned consciousness.  It was a glittering gemstone of many facets, inviting further exploration, invoking deep gratitude.  “ _Thank you!”_ she whispered, hoping there really were angels who would now carry her blessing on their ethereal wings, high into the heavens to be heard by the Spirit she had come to believe in.  _“Thank you!”_

She had reached the front steps now and was just about to climb them when the front door opened.  A tall young man, dressed in a dark suit and overcoat with a briefcase in his hand, was about to step out when he spotted her.  They made brief eye contact, and he politely held the door and bade her come in with a nod and a smile.  “After you, miss,” he offered in a deep voice.

 

     Therese smiled, taking the steps easily.  “Thank you, that’s kind,” she replied, making eye contact again.  The young woman was two steps into the building when she stopped.  Her thoughts felt fuzzy, and her lovely, pale face was twisted into an almost comical expression as she wondered why the stranger seemed familiar.  _Have I seen him somewhere before?_

 

     She had turned back toward the entranceway, hoping to glimpse the young man again, when the door opened, and he ducked his head back in.  It came to her in a flash, and she could tell by the dawning look of recognition on his clean-shaven face that he knew, too.

 

     He smiled, his lips turned up into a boyish smile of remembrance.  “You’re Therese, aren’t you?”

 

     She nodded, her heart pounding with joy.  “Billy!  Oh my god, you’re Billy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear, dear readers! Well, if you notice, this is chapter 22/23.  
> I SIMPLY CANNOT END THIS WITHOUT THERESE GOING HOME TO CAROL!!!  
> However, to add that scene here would be anti-climactic, I think.   
> So, last (short) chapter is soon to follow. Will write it as soon as I get it!
> 
> I'm praying for you all and sending you Light and Love.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have found the one whom my soul loves.  
> Song of Solomon 3:4

 

     Therese watched the car drive away, a contented Alicia sitting in the front seat next to Sr. Mary Margaretta.  The nuns had been happy to see one another, and she could tell her mentor had been anxious to return to Pace de Christo.  It had been an eventful few days ending with Alicia spending one last night with Carol and Therese.  They had all enjoyed each other, laughed and shared and even said a blessing over their friendship, at the old nun’s urging, of course.

 

     Now, Therese waved goodbye with a full heart, and was helpless to stop the thought that came: _Sabina gave birth to me, but somehow, you’ll always be my mother, Alicia._ She smiled, loving the love that filled her heart.  _What a rare and precious thing!_ As the wheels began churning on pavement once more, thoughts ran through her mind, one after another.  Sabina.  Bubbles.  Peter.  Abby and this _thing_ she seemed to have for the stunningly beautiful Sr. Mary Margaretta.  Mary, herself, who had been unable to make eye contact without her cheeks blushing furiously.Grief and sadness and loss and death.  Mortality.  Life…abundant life, and what made it all worthwhile. 

 

     Which left the glowing brunette precisely where she found herself, with her foot jammed down on the accelerator, willing the blue Packard to _go faster, go faster._ Carol would be home from work by now.  _Carol!_   _She_ was at the end of this drive.  _The woman I love!_ Therese smiled, her emerald eyes speaking tenderness to the car’s warm interior.  A verse came to her, one Alicia had taught her only recently: _I have found the one whom my soul loves._   Yes!  Yes!

 

     And maybe, finally, she loved herself, too.  Maybe, finally, she was whole enough and good enough.  Maybe, finally, she knew she was perfectly imperfect, and it was perfectly okay.  She inhaled deeply, releasing her breath in a slow and measured way.  An image of herself as a child skirted across a stage in her mind, and she smiled at the child’s energy, her whimsy. _I love you, Therese.  You were always okay._

 

    

                             _________________________________________________________

 

    

     Carol was feeling a kind of buzzing energy she couldn’t quite define.  She knew part of it was the anticipation of finally having Therese to herself.  It had been a very long few days filled with many people; well-loved, cherished people she was very thankful for. But if truth be told, even Rindy would be too much right now.  Carol needed and wanted to be alone with Therese, and no one else.  She needed to drink of the nourishing stream that was their relationship, to be soaked and replenished by their love.  At this moment, it seemed the only thing that mattered.

 

     She peered into the oven, blowing a flyaway strand of blond hair from her eyes.  The chocolate cake was coming along nicely, its top rising as it released the most enticing perfumes.  It was a decadent treat for a cold December Monday.  _But what the hell, why not?_ They were worth it.  And she wasn’t sure why, but she thought they might be celebrating something.  Carol dropped the softened butter in a bowl, adding powered sugar, cocoa powder, and a smidge of vanilla.  She supposed a part of her truly wanted to celebrate the fact that Sabina had passed on and could no longer hurt Therese.  But there was something far more… _present-focused_ that needed celebrating.  A new beginning or a completed journey.

“They’re really one in the same, aren’t they?” she asked aloud, her voice drowned out by the whirring electric beaters.  _Endings are beginnings; beginnings are endings._   Well!An epiphany!  _So darling,_ _we shall celebrate the beginning of…whatever we’re beginning!_ The thought made Carol happy, and she couldn’t resist dipping a finger into the creamy, rich chocolate icing.  She was sucking on her forefinger when she heard the front door open.  _Therese!_   She grabbed a couple potholders, stooping to remove the aromatic cake and place it on a cooling rack.  _Therese!_   Tossing her apron on the countertop, Carol hurried around the corner to the front hallway.

 

     Therese dropped her winter coat carelessly on the back of a chair, pulling off her cap and shaking out her silky, dark hair.  They made immediate eye contact, and for some reason she felt like she hadn’t seen Carol for ages, even though it had just been through the course of this one very busy Monday.  Perhaps the elegant blond felt that way, too, because she stood there with flushed cheeks and shimmering blue eyes, parted lips and a heaving chest, as if she’d just climbed several flights of stairs.

 

     For a few moments, neither one of them spoke.  They stared at one another in the pregnant silence, full of a growing light like the sun spreading over the Manhattan skyline at the dawn of day.  Therese ran her tongue over her upper lip, uncertain what to say but knowing she needed Carol desperately.  The older woman tilted her head, her gaze discerning.

 

     “Are you okay?” she asked softly.  Therese nodded with a faint smile, and Carol saw her emerald eyes darken with tears.  The young woman slipped off her shoes, crossing the room without once looking away.  She reached for Carol’s hands, pressing urgent thumbs into her knuckles.  She swallowed, then licked her lips again.

 

     “I need you, Carol.  I’m… _aching_ for you.  I just need you now… _only you_.”  Her words were a catalyst, a release, and Carol nodded, reaching out to pull Therese into her arms, crushing her slender body against her.  Therese buried her face in the hollow of her throat as awareness sprang from the roots of her hair, running down the length of her body with electric fingertips.  She thought Carol smelled like fragrance and chocolate and heat, and it made her groan.

 

     “Oh god, Carol.  Please,” she whispered, her hands roving hungrily up and down her back, “please tell me you want me now, too.”  The elegant blond had turned her face to Therese’s throat, inhaling deeply as she ran the tip of her nose behind her ear.  She pulled back, and her blue eyes were darkening with a slow smolder.  Therese saw her nostrils flare just before those red lips took her own in a commanding kiss which brought an immediate groan from the younger woman.  Mouths opened and tongued entwined, and in one swift move, Carol had swung Therese about, backing her up against the wall, deepening their kiss.

 

     Their hands roved, finding favorite places at a fervent pace as moist tongues continued to dance.  The elegant curve of hips; the soft underside of a breast; the heated, silken hollow at the base of a throat.  They were panting and groaning, and suddenly Carol leaned back to bring her hands to Therese’s hot, pink cheeks.  “Yes!” she whispered with a raw, growing urgency, “yes, I want you now!”  She grabbed for the young brunette’s hand and practically yanked her down the hallway and into the bedroom, pushing her back and down until Therese was lying on the bed, her green eyes wild with need.

 

     They dispensed with each other’s clothing quickly and without elegance, and when their naked bodies came together one of them groaned, the other shouted out.  They began to move in earnest, pelvises gyrating, seeking friction, and Therese thought she would lose her mind with the glory of Carol’s softness, her length, her heat, her warmth.  “Carol!” she whispered, her voice heavy and broken with longing.  “Oh, you feel _so good!_ ” 

 

     “Mm-hmm,” the older woman murmured, her tongue busy tasting the underside of Therese’s jaw, her fingers coming up to pinch a turgid nipple.  The red lips came next, and then that hot, wet tongue was circling the same peak and Therese’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy.  There were no more words then, just the sounds of their lovemaking, the gasps and moans while feverish hands moved to dark, secret places, dewy and soft as velvet.  A fine sheen of perspiration covered Therese’s shoulders; she felt the dampness of Carol’s smooth skin as the older woman moved down her body with purposeful command.

 

     Therese thought that perhaps there was nothing more beautiful in the entire world than Carol at that very moment, her long, smooth body lush and full, her cheeks stained with heat, her eyes dark with arousal and golden blond hair in wild disarray.  The young brunette pressing her hands upon her lover’s head in a way that caused the blond to look up.  “What is it, sweetheart?” she whispered raggedly.

 

     “I need to tell you I love you, Carol!  I love you, and there’s…more of me to love you now.  There’s more of me to give you,” Therese whispered back, her eyes imploring the older woman to understand.  And despite the fact that she was terribly distracted by the inviting womb just inches from her face, Carol smiled, reaching up a hand to clasp her girlfriend’s warm fingers.

 

     “I love you, too, Therese.  And I know!”  She smiled again, and her eyes conveyed her deep understanding, her gratitude.  _“I know!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my friends, here you go! The last, little chapter.  
> Wow! Have I been writing this story forever?? I'm sorry it's stretched out in time...I seem to recall penning the first words on a hot summer's day. Now it's a frigid, five degree day where I live, with a carpet of freshly fallen white snow all around!  
> For many reasons, it took more time, more energy, and more courage to write this than I'd anticipated.  
> If you are still with me, if you've walked these characters through to the last words, THANK YOU! I think I've always tried to communicate my gratitude...  
> You have touched me, and I have grown.
> 
> Carol and Therese have too, haven't they? Who knows what's next for our dear ladies...but perhaps an Interlude will pop up here and there.   
> In the meantime, know I will be sending you love, peace, and prayers, as always.  
> GG

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate you!  
> Sending peace to all.


End file.
